


and it was all yellow

by bleedingrainbows



Category: Batman (Comics), DC Animated Universe, DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics), Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: (when he isn't a jerk), Aged-Up Characters, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Damian Is A Gentleman, Damijon - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, English is not our first language, Everything between Jon and Damian is T-rated, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, It's One Of Those Fics, Jondami, M/M, Making Out, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Protective Dick Grayson, Slow Burn, SuperBat, The Robins Are Brothers, bart allen and jaime reyes are adult and married, batfamily, don't get too attached to the plot, i mean long, it's really all excuses for the relationships, jomian, long fic, so it's jondami fluff and superbat angst & smut, so please if you're going to be mean just don't frickin read, superbat is the 'explicit' relationship tagged, w every possible fluffy cliché
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-05-02 03:59:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 78,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedingrainbows/pseuds/bleedingrainbows
Summary: The abduction of Clark, Jon and Damian to a red sun planet made everyone's perspective shift. Back to Earth, a few days away from Jon's sixteenth birthday, they agreed they deserved a break to rest, recover and enjoy themselves a little - what would turn out to be the perfect environment for them to realize how the same things look changed when seen under a different light.or I may say "our ridiculously long self-indulgent teenage damijon roleplay, with lots of fluff, sweet clichés, pining and slow burn (plus a mildly angsty superbat side story)"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, shippers!
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who came over to read this. 
> 
> I've had some saddening experiences in this website when I just wanted to have some fun, so I'm going to BEG you guys to read the following warnings before proceeding:
> 
> 1) This is a random mix of the plots in comics (basically Rebirth) and animation (both movies and the YJ series), along with made up plots and whatever the imagination could provide. Some important relationships in canon storylines may not be depicted and others may be altered; as well, there may be several important characters that aren't even mentioned. This is a roleplay adaptation, after all, and things just happen. It's just supposed to be about the two main pairings. 
> 
> 2) Sorry for being defensive, but if you think our fic should be beta read (all fics should, tbh) just suggest this if you're willing to do it. We're very aware of it, only it isn't this easy to find someone in another country to do this for a 75k word fic (75k SO FAR). Corrections are always welcome, but be polite, please.
> 
> 3) I will delete the fanfiction if I'm being bothered, without thinking twice. I don't demand reviews at all, but consider writing something if you like the story, so that I can get a little more confident about the experience and get less defensive. Again, it isn't about not accepting criticism, it's about this not being anyone's job and just for fun.
> 
> Passive-aggressive remarks made, I truly hope readers enjoy the story. Thanks in advance! ❤
> 
> ***

Damian’s eyes rolled so much he could see the back of his skull. Now the jackass is hugging the parents like he’s done some kind of big thing. What a cornerstone. Beacon Of Hope Junior.

“Big thing, almost getting his super ass vaporized.” He mumbled under his teeth, arms crossed strongly over chest. After that saving, he was leaning on his motorcycle, just watching.

When Jon glanced behind, at him, with that big, wide, stupid smile of his, Damian was already concluding that Superboy was using his super honesty and dignity to tell who was responsible for their daughter ultimate saving.

“Jon, if you tell them I did it and bring them here I swear I’ll finish that alien’s job in disintegrating you.” He said under his breath.

“That's a team job, tho!" Jon shrugged when he looked at the parents and scratched his nape, feeling a little embarrassed and a lot proud of himself.

It wasn't easy and he knew that he wouldn't have been able to do it alone, but after those years he's started to give more credit to himself. Otherwise Damian would lecture him about it again, even though the lectures are mainly about how _he_ was the one to be praised. Still giggling, even blushing a little after a hug from the girl they had saved, Jon gave his back and waved as he flew to where Damian was waiting.

"Hey, why do you always stay away when people are thanking us? They're so nice!"

Damian snorted, shaking his head.

“I don’t need them to acknowledge a good work. Even because they wouldn’t see one. All they saw was a flying sixteen year old with their own teenage daughter on his arms, standing tall like he’s done something admirable and heroic and not completely tactically stupid!” Helplessly he was raising his voice tone. “Are you honestly proud of what you did, Jonathan?”

Jon crossed his arms, twisting his lips for a moment.

"Of course I am! She's safe, isn't she?" a smile took place of the twist on his lips and he placed his hands on his waist, speaking now with an almost mocking tone "And I'm fifteen! A fifteen year old guy saved her! Are you angry about it, mister eighteen?"

Damian scrunched his brows. How dare Jon to correct him about that? His sixteen birthday was a few days from now, does this brat think he doesn’t know that? The plan is all up already and for a little there wouldn’t be a birthday boy at all!

Fuck, he’s such an idiot!

“I couldn’t care less about your ID age, you’ve always been a child anyway!” Damian climbed on his motorcycle. “If she’s safe it’s not thanks to you. Just because you took the first blow in the S for Stupid you get in your chest it doesn't mean you two would survive the next ones. I had a plan for all the alien manipulation they had and you almost blew it all away because a pretty girl shrieked.”

"It's not true!" Jon crossed his arms again and bent closer to look at Damian's eyes. "The S stands for hope, I told you a million times!"

Of course that it would be the one thing that Jon would argue about. Damian wouldn't listen to anything about his super, amazing, brilliant tactics and Jon was too used to it to keep arguing about it. Yet he blinked a few times and placed his feet on the ground. Maybe he should have been more careful, but he always ended up acting impulsively and following more his heart than his head. Glancing back to where the family was Jon sighed and thought about saying something to Damian, but then he remembered about something else.

"You think she's pretty?" a teasing grin grew on his face and he chuckled indeed like a kid. "Do you want her number? That's why you’re so angry? Because she clearly liked me the most?"

Damian lifted one brow, shaking his head slowly.

_I could punch this beautiful dumb face and he wouldn't even feel it._

Damian knew he was actually so fucking grateful that Jon was safe. It was an unusual situation, to actually fear someone or something could hurt him, and he really didn't know what to do with that kind of feeling. And the more he was aware of that, the more he hated it. He's got better things to do with his mind than to worry about that boy's safety. He just wished Jon grew a little bit out of that clueless kid sometimes and actually make do with that oh-so adult mien he's got and that flat of hand he is taller than him.

“It's like you have ADDH or something. I don't want anything to do with any girl, Superboy. You're fully free to invite her to be your pair in the ballroom dance of your Sweet Sixteen party." He turned the engines of the vehicle on, making it roar loud, way louder than necessary. "You don't have to thank me for the thousandth time I saved your ass this year so far. Just do us all a favor and avoid falling flat on a kryptonite dagger while I'm not around. It's a wonder the Teen Titans accepted and kept you. Guess it's the laser beams and the blue puppy eyes." Damian finished before speeding out, keeping the frown on.

Rage is always easier.

Jon was frowning too, but because he was bothered. When would Damian give him some credit? He wasn't a kid anymore, he was just a little... reckless.

"And I don't want anything to do with any girl either!" Jon said to himself and flew after Damian, so that they could keep bantering for a little longer.

 

***

 

Later, when Jon arrived home, he sighed as he fell on the couch and stared at the ceiling, feeling tired as he isn't used to feel.

"Tough day, son?" Clark asked as he entered the living room, holding a plate with a sandwich. He was smiling as usual, like everything in the world was made of happiness and rainbows, and it was hard for Jon to not to smile along with him.

"More like tough partner!" Jon answered, sitting straight to grab the other half of that sandwich.

"Damian's giving you a hard time again, hn?" Clark just smiled, but squeezed his eyes to Jon, chuckling a little. "You two should be used to each other by now, don't you think?"

"Dad, he's my best friend! But he looks at me like I'm still a kid, and he's not that much older than me! Two and a half years only!"

Clark sighed and gazed at his downhearted son for a small while. He was still sweet and naive like a child, but that attitude and that mood was definitely from a teenager.

"The Waynes are hard to deal, but that's the real good thing about them!" Clark made a dramatic pause only to catch Jon's attention and then kept speaking, a little lower, as if it was a secret and their house was bugged by the Waynes themselves. "They don't waste their time with anyone or anything that they don't think is worth it, so if they stick around it means that they really care."

Jon listened carefully and slowly a smile grew back on his lips. Yeah, his father was right, and actually Jon didn't know how he could think that Damian was sick of him or anything like that. Damian indeed was his best friend, and if he cared enough to stick around, Jon would do the same for him, like they have always done for each other.

 

***

 

“How did the menace in Riverside this morning got handled?” Bruce said as he entered the training site, a cup of coffee in his hands. Damian was in leg workout, wearing shorts and tank, pushing weight with his feet while sitting.

“I’ve filed the report already, _sir_.”

“Don’t take it as if I’m unaware of what happened. If I’m here it’s because I want to hear it from you.”

“If you’re here it’s because you want to interact and see if I’m in one piece. I’ve just scraped my arm, dada. Already patched myself up.” Damian said with an acid sarcasm, lifting his arm to show the bandages on his left arm.

“Actually, I came here to prove a point, on how your teenage behavior gets worse when you spend time with the Kent kid. And to think you're basically an adult.” Bruce said nonchalantly, sipping his coffee, while Damian made his best not to roll his eyes and scoff and prove Bruce right. “He would do fine without you in that battle. The Kents might be heart but their heads are in place. You don’t have to worry.”

“Worry.” Damian ended up scoffing before he could help himself. “Don’t _you_ worry, Bruce. Your stepson is safe.”

“My son-in-law, you mean.”

“I’m not the Wayne in love with a Kent, here, Bruce.”

“If you say so.” Bruce's voice was plain as always, not more than thin, uninterested irony. He walked closer and laid one hand on Damian’s shoulder for a moment.

Damian just remained in silence. Bruce left the site and Damian stopped, letting his legs drop.

It was not the first time Bruce poked him about that. Which was weird, because it wasn’t the kind of thing he used to do. He was way better minding his business and, in fact, whatever it is he knew, he wouldn’t need bothering him like that to find. It was like he was maybe trying some twisted parenting now that he was an adult already. Or maybe that he was actually concerned about his son’s heart or whatever, which was even more awkward.

"You better check the inconsistencies in the readings. I'm sure you noticed them as well." Bruce said before leaving, meaning the content of his report, making Damian clench his teeth. He was wondering again whether it wasn’t time to just go out of that house already, but he would just go back everyday anyway to their training and then to their projects, so it indeed sounded like a stupid thing to do. If Bruce wanted to find him, he would. It wasn’t like they are running into each other in that fucking mansion by accident.

Truth be told, he was a little lost on what to do, in everything, and admitting it to himself was the kind of thing that made him go to the punching bag and the simulated fight to try to get a distraction. It all passed by so fast. Their partnership, friendship, and now this. He’s in his PhD and is in love with a teenager.

He’s known that since he was seventeen. Jon being underage was already creepy enough, when he puts it into this perspective it’s even creepier. Yet it had never made him feel like it’s wrong. Even when he was jealous of him, it was also because he was his one friend, his only friend. He didn’t want to lose him to someone that would take his partner away from him, even though he knew he could work very well alone. It had always been the two of them against the world and that kind of crush he had was completely pure. But it's been a while he had been really wanting to kiss him. He was preying around girls and boys who started approaching Jon, threatening with his presence like once he had been with whoever tried to bully him (but the bullies, on the other side, didn’t go out of that physically unharmed). Everyone already thought they were boyfriends. Obviously the only one who didn’t see that was Jon himself. God, the boy was thick sometimes. Most of the times. Idiot. He was in love with an idiot.

***

It was about three a.m. when Damian stormed out of his lab, aware of how late it was already. From there to the Kent’s he was just a fast blur slicing the night in his motorcycle. Speed limit is for nuns.

“Stupid. Stupid, stupid.” He was repeating that like a mantra, and worst part was that it was to himself. How could he have missed it? Of course that it was more than just a random attack to a random girl in a random spot of these already _alien-driven_ streets. Damian read the signals of the attack and he knew it was dangerous for kryptonians, that was exactly what made him so afraid of it in the first place. Why was it that it didn’t get to hurt Jon, then?

Obviously.

It didn’t want to.

It wasn’t incompetence, mistake, miscalculation or anything of sorts. It was _learning_. It _read_ Jon. The droids outside of them made the whole work.

It was twice as dangerous considering that they came from a planet orbiting a giant star of intermediate mass, 2 solar masses to be more precise, outer atmosphere inflated and tenuous, roughly 4800 Kelvin degrees.

As the Kents use to say, a red sun. Very alike Krypton itself used to have.

To Damian, climbing up to Jon’s bedroom in the middle of the night was a regular Tuesday, and as such would be to break into it pick-locking his window. He could do it already easily to any lock, much more being so used to this one particularly. It felt too slow, right now, however.

“Jon! Fuck, Jon, wake up!” He pulled Jon by the shoulders to make him sit down forcefully, and he was really about to lift him on his shoulder and throw him off the window. That fucking alien sleep he’s got.

"Damian?" Jon asked even before open his eyes, still a little dizzy and sleepy. "What-?"

When he finally started paying attention around, he looked at his friend's worried face and it sent all that lethargy away, putting him in an alarmed mode. He sat down straight and held Damian's hand, blinking fast.

"What's going on? Are you hurt?”

“No, but you could be very soon. Those aliens you were fighting, they’re from a, a red sun planet and now they know you are, too. They can’t destroy you, but they can abduct you and do it there. They have so called magic and wormhole tech to do so.”

Damian picked Jon’s Converses on the floor and pushed them against his chest. “I’ll explain later, pick these and fly the fuck away from here to the Wayne manor. I’ll explain everything later there. I’ll wake your dad up too, go!”

"What-?" Jon gasped but left the bed automatically, following whatever Damian said. When he was putting the second shoe on he gasped and got up, looking at the door of his room. "Dad!"

All he had time to do was to get up and try to fly to the door. He couldn't understand everything that Damian was talking, but if he was right, as he usually is, he couldn't leave without his father. Damian had held Jon’s wrist in an attempt to stop him, already aware that by strength only he wouldn’t do a single thing. It was more like a cry for his reason, which had always been a shout in the dark. If only he had time to explain. His calculation was wrong for seconds, but seconds were more than enough, and seconds were unacceptable. The trepidation, like the beginning of an earthquake, the sound that seemed to come from inside his head, making them momentarily deaf.

Everything that happened next was so fast that not even super-speed could do something about it. In fact, they were frozen in place. Jon heard the voice of his father calling his name like a distant echo. He remembered answering and then everything was blank, like he was dragged inside a globe of light.

It was when everything bursted into white.


	2. Chapter 2

Damian opened his eyes, surrounded by wreckage and inside a mist of dust and concrete powder. On top of them, the reddish sky.

As imagined, they were there. On the planet of the red sun. The planet of those aliens. Breathable air, otherwise they wouldn’t have been breathing freely on Earth as well, and they did.

“Jon? Jon, are you alright?” His eyes searched for Jon’s.

To be honest, Jon didn't know the answer. That tunnel hearing was still there and he had the impression that he fell from somewhere, so when he tried to get up he felt it, that sensation in the back of his head, making everything uncomfortable and weird.

"My head..." he groaned and shut his eyes, lifting one hand to touch it. "What's happening?"

Fighting his own dizziness and pain, Damian put himself on his knees and held Jon as he leaned on his forearms.

Jon was vulnerable there, as a human being he isn’t used to be. There he could bleed, hurt, cut and break himself. There he could die.

“Hopefully it’s just pain and not  any symptom of a concussion.” Damian touched Jon’s nape while his other hand touched his face. “This will probably sound foolish to you, but I have to check. Follow my finger with your eyes and count backwards from twenty.”

"Damian!" Jon yelped and held the hand in front of him, but he ended up doing what he asked. "...fifteen, fourteen... Is it really necessary all the way to zero?"

Jon sighed and sat down slowly, groaning. Ok, he wasn't that clueless, he knew that it was pain, and it concerned him a lot. Looking up to the sky he could see the orange landscape and he hated it already.

Damian checked the device he had on his own waist, attached to the utility belt he managed to bring along. It scrambled the teleportation readings and tossed them somewhere in the planet that the aliens wouldn’t be waiting for them in an ambush, if that’s what they’ve planned. Everything he managed to do in half an hour after triangulating the signals before realizing the threat was back.

He should’ve gone to them sooner. He should have.

It was just him and Jon there, because they were touching when teleported. With the scrambler, Clark could be anywhere. If he was in one piece.

He would be. His intervention couldn’t have just disintegrated Clark, not really.

Focus.

"How far from Earth are we?" Jon massaged his nape remembering the last minute - has it been really a minute? - and a pain bigger than that  one in his head made his heart skip a beat. "Where's my father? Damian, did you see him?"

Damian jumped to his feet and groaned in pain. Certainly something was injured. He should check as soon as they find shelter.

“I didn’t, but I scrambled the readings so that they don’t know where we were transported to and they can’t ambush us. So he’s probably far from us, randomly. “He offered his hand to Jon. “But he’s most probably alive. We’ll find him, and Bruce back home has my tech and readings, he’ll certainly decode it to find us. Meanwhile, I just need to find a power source. This is very probably a hostile environment. How good to go are you?”

"A little dizzy, but fine..." Jon complained, getting up with Damian's help. "Are you hurt?" he asked for the second time and looked better at Damian's face.

Not that Damian had the kindest semblant ever, but he seemed really worried in levels that Jon had rarely seen, and it concerned him even more. What could he do without his powers? He wasn't smart like Damian or like his father. But he wouldn't be a burden either.

"Let's- let's go, then!" Jon gave few steps in one direction, then stopped and looked around, completely lost. "Where do we go?"

Damian wouldn’t admit he wasn’t very sure either, obviously, but he could find his way to somewhere better. They were in the middle of a camp with some kind of low vegetation, like a savannah, but there was what appeared to be a road nearby. The weather didn’t feel too dry, but it was definitely cold.

“This way.” He pointed south. “Let’s just find shelter and provisions while I collect energy for the device.”

Damian stared at Jon’s figure, lost and confused even though he was trying to keep it together, the sweet face dirty with brick powder, wearing sweatpants, a long sleeved, but thin T-shirt with animation stamp and red Converses. Rolling his eyes, he snorted and took his own jacket off, stepping closer.

Lifting the coat, he gently placed the piece of clothing on Jon shoulders. Then, in the next movement, just gestured forward with his head to show impatience.

“Let’s just go.” He picked a knife inside his belt, checked the directions and the readings in his devices, and started walking.

Jon mumbled a "thank you" and hugged himself, the heat of Damian's jacket relieving the cold for a moment. He stepped closer to Damian to walk by his side and looked around aware that it would be hard to find his father in there. As hard as it would be to go back home.

"How- how did you figure it out?" Jon asked low, still paying attention on the surroundings.

“I’m a genius. That’s what I do.” _And what_ _I should’ve done faster_ , his mind completed and he shook his head. “Don’t bother trying to understand how this works, just believe what I’m telling you and you’ll do fine. We’re not that far from Earth in space levels, about a light-day from the first jumping point, but we have to set a receptor up to get Bruce’s help from Earth. So we’ll stay here about at least an entire day, just sitting on our hands, so we use this time to try to find your dad, but only after we receive a signal from Earth, or it would be a dead end. Wandering aimlessly hoping we bump into your father isn’t just worthless but we can end up even farther from him, and in trouble with aliens. In addition, we shouldn’t make much effort because the oxygen level here is slightly lower than the average on Earth, the same as that of a high altitude city. So it isn’t enough to be deadly, but it can make you tired, dizzy or sleepy easier. That’s all you need to know, and why our goal now is to seek shelter and nothing more.”

Damian could feel that the insistent sting he was feeling was inside his thorax and he could only hope that wasn’t a broken rib. Stil, his posture wads impeccable, the same lifted chin and closed fists, narrowed eyes and rude tone. Only his briefly hiccuped breath could give him away.

"Damian..." Jon blinked once and stopped walking, gazing at him. "Are. You. Hurt?" he asked slowly and very serious, trying to study his face. Not that he was very good with that, but at least he knew when Damian was lying to him and putting on a brave face.

“It doesn’t matter!” Damian said, still low but vehemently, and turned to him, frowning. “We have to get going, Jonathan, you are the one  you need to worry about! We need to find a better shelter, your lips are already bluish. Let’s just fucking go!” He winced with the sudden move as he turned back to walking.

Jon lifted a brow and then shook his head, following Damian.

"If you're not hurt then I'm not cold!" he took off Damian's jacket and dropped it over his friend’s head, what he regretted it immediately. Hugging himself Jon kept walking to where Damian had pointed at, in firm steps. Ok, it wouldn't be of great use to admit that he was hurt, but that attitude of him sometimes got on Jon’s nerves!

Damian looked right at Jon’s face with all rage he could gather and it just ricocheted in him like bullets to his regular skin.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed earlier than I thought.” He growled, grabbed the coat and threw it back against Jon. “Try to survive the next fucking yard without _bitching_ , would you?”

Once more he gave his back and walked fast. He had spotted already a tree large enough to probably fit a nest for Jon at least. Once there, he found a way to make them a shelter, calculating the material needed and how to build it. The moment he climbed it, though, his whole face twisted in effort, an effort he surely wouldn’t make, not even in such a difficult tree to climb.

“Fine!” He growled back, hushing but harshly still, looking at Jon under the branch he was crouched on. “Maybe I’m hurt! Your fucking house fell on me! It doesn’t matter! That’s how we work on the streets, ok? Concussions, sprains and hematomas. This is Tuesday! Now help me getting those branches, would you?”

"It didn't hurt you more to admit it, did it?" Jon tried to use a tone that wasn't his own, more reflecting Damian's bad behavior, and actually it didn't feel good. With a sigh he put on Damian's jacket again and moved closer to him, helping him with whatever he asked. At least he still was good with his hands and useful, so it actually distracted him a little from what he was fearing the most. He couldn't protect Damian while he was like that and he couldn't find his dad, alone in there without a single clue about what was happening.

"Damian..." Jon began low while he pulled the leaves of a stick. "Do you think my dad is okay?" he gazed at him, afraid of the answer, even if he felt that Damian would say anything not to make him more worried than he already was. Damian, however, had been trying not to lie directly to Jon, even though he was still holding some truth back from him. He picked the stick and tried on the leaves to see if they wouldn’t give them any reaction or allergy.

“I don’t have concrete reasons to think he isn’t.” He said and tied up a ball of a hay-like thing in the inside of the tree. It was pretty much like a bird would do; it was a nest. “My- Bruce always says how Clark is a tough guy. He’s trained, he’s smart, even with the obvious disadvantage he’s got now in this environment. It’s not a good scenario here, Jon, and he’s at risk. But he’s not where the aliens wanted him to be and he’s got what it takes to survive a couple days on his own until rescue comes and go home safely.”

He decided to shut up, and tested the structure he made there, glancing at the last sun rays still left in the sky. Jon sighed, getting up slowly to let Damian test it properly.

"I wish my dad had someone to stay with him like I have you..." he said more thinking about how lonely it would be to be all by yourself in a strange place like that, but he also meant more than that.

A little annoyed by the whole situation he grabbed another stick to keep on cleaning the leaves even if they didn't need more of those. He was so lucky to have Damian with him, and not only there. If wasn't for Damian his life would be very different, for sure, and to be honest he didn't like to even think about it. _Life without Damian._ What reminded him of something, making him reach out for his friend's hand.

"Damian, thank you for coming to warn us!" he smiled for the first time since Damian woke him up and gently stroked the back of his hand with his thumb.

Damian swallowed hard when his reaction was to hold Jon’s hand back.

“We’ve got each other’s back, right?” He mirrored the side smile, and that was one of the times he hated how Jon had awaken that silly, fluffy, prosaic side of him. Most of the times, though, he loved the heat of a smile, inadmissibly. It was just that right then it was definitely not the time. He pulled his hand back and clumsily for a second did some pointless stuff with the ropes and hay, tying and untying randomly. “I should’ve seen it before. But I’ll take us out of here. I prom-“ he stopped. “I don’t promise this, I promise I’ll do what’s possible and impossible, and I get things done. You know me. Let’s- let’s just try to have some sleep. I’m used to not sleeping, so I take the first turn, ok?”

"Are you sure? You were already awake trying to figure it out, aren’t you tired?" Jon was also worried about his friend.

Damian was kind even when he didn't want to be, what, in Jon's opinion, made him an even more awesome person. He sighed and sat close to Damian, where it seemed to be the best spot to stay. The small nest they made in that half an hour kept them warm, and the leaves helped out with breaking the wind, while also providing slight camouflage.

"And it's better if you are well rested for tomorrow, isn't it? You're way better in exploring than me, we both know that!" Jon shrugged, half smiling, but he was indeed a little tired. It had being exhausting, the whole thing, and he was still worried sick about his father. He blinked slowly and pulled the jacket closer to keep himself warm.

“I’m not tired.” Damian said quickly, and as quickly he snorted. “Ok, I am a little tired. But you’re not used to being and to feeling all this, so your body and brain are strained. I’ll wake you up in some hours to get myself some sleep, don’t worry.”

Damian slipped deeper in that shallow nest when the cold wind blew harder, and he lifted his legs, leaning his dark green boots on the other edge. His arm touched Jon’s and he lifted it to mess Jon’s hair.

“Just rest your eyes, princess.” He smiled sideways again when it was meant to be actually a smirk. His arm was now sort of behind Jon’s back, so he just leaned it on their backrest.

Ok, great deal. They would share an improvised bed and in this pathetically cliche scenario probably end up cuddling or something because the space is small and it’s goddamn cold in there. Of course it wasn’t something to make a fuss about; but he was seriously bad with human contact to begin with, even though he wanted to give Jon some comfort. He would have to find a way to do so and that was pretty suckish, to be so awkward and immature in such a life or death situation. He ended up just pulling his arm back.

Jon only sighed in the meanwhile. He was pretty used to Damian's ways to be offended with his defensive posture and he knew that his friend was more practical than anything else. It didn't bother him at all. Still it was pretty cold and Damian was right about the way that he was feeling about his condition. That was the thing making him really uncomfortable. It was weird to feel such cold and it was like his skin was too soft and too sensitive to every shape of the leaves and sticks under him, so he prefered to remain sitting against the large trunk beside Damian instead of laying down.

"Good night..." Jon said low, giving his back to Damian and closing his eyes, only then realizing how tired he was. And it was quickly that he fell asleep, even if he kept waking up from time to time, turning his body to try to find a better position and sighing when he failed in doing it. Every limb of his felt too heavy and his mind didn't seem able to shut down for a while, what was making him even more aware of how uncomfortable it all was. Turned again to Damian, he looked at him under half closed eyelids and sighed deeply. Damian was only a human and yet he was so much more than anyone Jon had ever met. He was hurt and tired and Jon was pretty sure that he was thinking non stop in finding the quickest solution to everything. In Jon's eyes he was simply the best person and he was so lucky to have him as his best friend.

Somewhere between sleep and reality Jon reached out to touch Damian's arm and sighed again, mumbling something like "cold" before closing his eyes for real in that night. His hands were indeed cold, and right away Damian covered them with his own to provide heat. As he lowered his eyes once, he smiled weakly in noticing that finally Jon stopped tossing and turning, and actually fell asleep to rest. There was an itchy will to caress the dark, soft hair, but instead he checked the uncovered skin to make sure whether it wasn’t too cold, then lifted his eyes again to the horizon to watch out for him.

When he was sure that Jon was deeply asleep - and he sleeps like a goddamn log - he carefully pulled his stuff to work on the things he had to do to confirm the sending of the signaling to Earth, to Batman. Not only he felt sorry and wouldn’t have the courage to wake Jon up, but he just lost track of time while assembling the transmitter. The one moment he actually moved in the nest they made was when he got up in the trunk to climb to the highest bench to position it. It was a painful and slow ascending, but he managed to do so. Once there, he was surveilling the surroundings with his with thermal imaging binoculars, only seeing miles and miles of plantations and desert areas. He could only hope that Clark was that lucky, too.

"D?" Jon called low as soon as he opened his eyes, looking around for his friend. When he didn't find Damian immediately he sort of freaked out, feeling his heart beating fast in an anguished way, even if he was aware that Damian wouldn't just disappear like that. Without the super-hearing he couldn't try to find Damian's voice or heartbeats and in a few ways it was like being blind and lost. His eyes burned with despair and he was panting until he looked up and noticed a shape that he hoped with all his heart to be Damian’s, making him get up too fast, making unnecessary noise without noticing. All he needed now was to reach Damian and not to be alone anymore.

"Damian! Damian!"

Damian looked down quickly, chest clenching thinking that something could be happening to Jon that he missed while adjusting the receptor. Silent, he jumped to the lower branch beside Jon skillfully and didn’t even flinch with the pain.

“Shut up! Do you _want_ to be found?” He hushed first, but then stepped closer. “What happened?”

Jon couldn't answer, all he could do was hold Damian's wrist and bring him closer to hug him.

"I'm sorry! I thought- I thought you had disappeared!" he said low, controlling his strength to not hug him too tight when he remembered that he didn't had his super strength anymore. Then he really wrapped his arms around Damian and hugged him like he wanted, shaking a little and knowing that he was overreacting. But it feels so safe to be close to Damian like that.

“I was setting the transmitter, ugh! Get over yourself! When was it that I ever left you alone?” Damian scolded him, in a hush, his heart racing and feeling as if he was blindfolded, cuffed and weaponless against tens of enemies. He was helpless and needed to push him away, stop that little scene. But he rested his hands very lightly on the sides of Jon’s torso, sighing.

“I’m here.” Easing his tone, he didn't actually got to be gentle, but his voice was undoubtedly sweeter. So he went on, low, murmuring next to Jon’s ear “I know you’re scared you’re vulnerable.” _I’m scared about it, too_. “But don’t let fear take you over. Keep it together.”

Damian then stepped away from his hug and held his shoulder with one hand, looking into his eyes.

“I know you. You’re brave.” His thumb caressed Jon’s shoulder once. “And way more than your Kryptonian powers.” He stepped back skillfully even where the trunk was narrower. “I’ll be back soon, I just have to finish triangulating our position. Try not to send a flare on our location while down there.” He winked and leaped to a branch as quiet as it gets.

"Alright..." Jon sighed, rubbing his arms, feeling cold again. He was feeling more and more ridiculous, weaker and weaker and it was embarrassing to be like that in front of Damian. Right now he felt like a ten year old again, useless and unprepared. Jon looked up to Damian and tried not to move a muscle.

Damian wasn't thinking anything bad of Jon's fear, not honestly. He's seen full buildings falling over Jon he'd come out from beneath the wreckage like it's no big deal. Now _hay_ was scratching his skin. Putting that in perspective was terrifying. 

He found a spot for himself again to go back to his synchronizing, silently, and it startled him when he heard a response.

"Robin?" The sound was clear; Bruce's voice. Damian was puzzled, not expecting it this early.

"Batman?"

"Yes. How are you and the other?" He kept using the least information possible not to be intercepted.

"We’re good. You weren't supposed to pick this signal this early-" Damian tried. "So you already got to the same leads I did."

"I taught you, remember."

Damian rolled his eyes and the most annoying thing was actually acting like a teenager like that with his father when he was supposed to be an adult already. So he didn't let it transparent. So he shared their mutual secret codes to ensure each other's identity and safety, and, yes, apparently Bruce was well aware of everything already and followed the leads.

"Take note of the coordinates where the other subject fell when you dispersed the teleporting." The other subject was Clark, and he informed the coded coordinates. "I'll meet you there, so try to stay in place unless the subject isn't there any longer or your safety is compromised. You know that considering the distance I'll not arrive before you already predicted, not even with the leap. But I can teleport if you-"

Damian knew perfectly the risks of teletransporting in their conditions. It risked everything; first, they could end up materialized inside the soil or all messed up amidst the environment, when they didn't have every detail on the destination. If everything went alright physically, still they could be noticed in every frequency the aliens have on teleporting, what very probably wouldn't happen if they entered flying instead, in stealth mode. Teleporting itself in these situations wasn't wise, the same way it hadn't been wise to mess their teleporting in the first place like he had done to toss them to random spots in the planet. It was just the very last resource before, and it had to be their last resource to get out of there as well. Right now, they still could afford to be cautious instead of desperate.

"I know the stakes. It's already dangerous enough to be using this to transmit waves and phonon, let alone matter. If we also _need_ the rescue ship to teleport, I'll call you. "

"You won't." Bruce's tone showed he was assured of that.

"It's not just my life at stake here." Damian sighed very briefly. "It's a promise."

"I'll have to believe you. Take care. Out. "

"Out."

And they turned off. With his mind seething, he leaped down and slid on the trunk to reach Jon.

"Jon, we might have coordinates to where your dad landed. As I tried to add to the algorithm, Clark isn't in dangerous terrain like water. He's in soil, far from cities, and it's a five hour walk from where we are now, so he's probably safe. Batman calculated his probable whereabout and sent me in code so I could draw it in a map. Batman won't be here too soon because if he teleports he can compromise us and our very saving, so we'd only use it if we find ourselves in lethal danger. So we have this time to try and find your dad. Let's go?"

"Yes!" Jon answered quickly, but trying to not be too eager or loud. He needed to be helpful, even without knowing where to start.

They checked the perimeter and got down carefully, when Jon followed Damian, slowly, watching each step he took.


	3. Chapter 3

Along many hours, Jon tried  not to speak too much so that he won’t distract Damian, but he was tired and sweating and feeling hungry like he had never felt before, what was making him even more exhausted. Not finding his father so easily made the extra hours beyond the five ones predicted feel like tens of those, and Damian mentioned that there might be an extra decimal fraction of Earth gravity in there, however small, to bear. He couldn't complain, though. He was the only one who had slept at all and had the chance to rest, and Damian was hurt and still with a fierceness that kept him relentless. Jesus, Damian was amazing, but Jon knew he also needed a time much more than he would ever admit.

"Can we stop for a moment?"

“Yeah... yes. Have a seat.”  Damian was unquiet, perfectly aware that all that would keep him on point was adrenaline, yet trying to calculate the ratio of his own tiredness in consequence of such. Looking around he walked to amidst the low trees and kicked a rock with his heel to check its structure. He kept on walking around, knife in hand, poking stuff carefully. He did it for a couple of minutes instead of sitting and resting like Jon wanted him to, inside his mind those same minutes feeling like an eternity. He walked to beside Jon again.

“This area we are in is probably agricultural. The buildings we’ve seen are probably the greenhouses, and I believe that by the smell it was carrying some kind of additive or poison. Or it’s what they eat, who knows. But it’s organic. Which means it’s probable that we find water soon, and maybe something edible. Downside is that the carbon dioxide levels here seem to be induced slightly higher, perhaps to feed the plants. Not really toxic, but avoid closing your eyes to fall asleep.” He picked something inside his belt, like everything in the world could fit in there somehow, and offered to Jon what looked like a plastic bag with some compartments. “I was trying to find some trace of water around here, even if polluted, so that it can be distilled, but I can't find it. I believe we may find them near the greenhouses, but if you need to take a piss use this, it distills automatically so you can have it later as pure and clean water. It might be the one drink you’d have for a while so don’t frown.”

If Jon complained, Damian didn't listen, telling him to hush. He pulled his thermal imaging binoculars and pointed them in a direction down the apparent road they saw along their path. At the sight, Damian jumped further and pulled Jon by the arm, almost taking him off the ground with the tug. He held him close and covered his mouth to avoid any noise, shrinking to behind two close trees. He didn’t explain, just remained silent, and an almost silent vehicle passed by in the road nearby. Jon even held his breath, but he could feel his heart racing furiously and feared that it could be heard somehow. Damn, he was so scared that he even grabbed Damian's T-shirt and held it tight. Jon glanced around, fearing the worst, but he wouldn't move a muscle until Damian says he could do so.

Damian followed the thing with his eyes to try to comprehend how it worked; like repelling itself from the metallic road it was following, but still caught on it, a little like a single floating wagon. There weren’t windows and he didn’t see any sign of a crew, but he wouldn’t risk being caught on camera or something alike. Instead, he memorized all the information displayed in there, every code, and waited until it went away. When it was far enough he could release his breath, but the transport was still within their range of sight, so he stood right where he was.

Then Damian looked up properly at Jon. Damn, he was close, and warm. It was inadmissible how he’d want some comfort now. He averted his eyes back to the horizon waiting for when to get the hell out of there.

"Let's walk in the opposite direction to that thing.” Damian hushed near Jon’s neck. “I’m thinking of exploring that greenhouse over there. We’ll have to be cautious.”

He pointed and Jon followed his gesture with his eyes, spotting the destination suggested.

"We should keep going, then! I cannot believe how hungry I am! We eat, drink and then keep moving on until the night falls again. And this time I take the first turn, that's not negotiable!" Jon whispered back to him, following the thing with his eyes until it disappears. "You are hungry too, aren't you?"

Still remaining close Jon lowered his eyes to Damian and looked into his eyes. He should take care of him too; Damian was too reckless when it was about himself.

“Don’t worry about me, worry about finding your father. We’re very near the first location, I just need to follow the leads.” Damian walked out, giving his back to Jon and clearing his throat.

They left for the fields, trying the best to remain hidden behind trees or rocks In these farms they found a big herd of weird looking animals, like six-legged cows with manatee-looking faces, and Damian tried very hard to avoid their attention not to startle them and their possible owners. Both he and Jon walked as silently as possible, but the animals still noticed - but they didn’t seem to be terribly afraid, just, if possible, _cautious_. Calmly they just moved at the slightest sound or movement around them, walking away slowly to all opposite directions. Surely from an upper view it would be easy to notice that someone passed through the flock, since the animals opened up a large path and didn’t return to their original spots once Jon and Damian passed through.

When they arrived to the greenhouse they had seen, Damian knew he would probably not find actual food, but that was an oxygen filled, green surroundings with considerably tiny insects he’s seen here and there, so there must be drinkable water and even perhaps something edible, although risking wouldn’t be an option. Damn, he should have less batarangs and more protein bars in his belt.

“We might have to break in. Um, I might have. You keep an eye on the surroundings.” He picked another device the size of a matchbox, but, once activated, it developed into a small gun able to shoot blasts instead of bullets, almost silent. Yeah, _that_ he had in there, but not a fucking filled canteen. What’s the use of a water filter _without_ water? It’s Alien 101. Also, if they didn’t have breathable air in there, he would also only have a filter for one person - and what would only work in a place with some oxygen in the atmosphere, at least in molecules like carbon dioxide. Damian knew his utility belt wasn’t a boy scout’s backpack, it was supposed to be ready to many kinds of fight, and, only secondly, to allow some urgent first aid and offer chances of survival. Yet, all the _what if_ ’s didn’t stop worrying him.

“Has anyone ever taught you how to shoot? Boy, we gotta train better when we get back home.” Along with all concerns and disguised guilt, Damian was already thinking of how to improve his own and Jon’s training. “I’ll allow you maybe two hours off in your birthday.” Damian gave him his snarky grin as he handed him the gun, obviously trying to ensure they would get back in time for that.

"You are so kind, D!" Jon tried to mock him, but it was actually true. Damian was trying to give him some comfort without really saying nice words and that was his way of being nice, so Jon was thankful.

Holding the gun - he never thought he would have to use one someday - he sighed and glanced around, alert how he knew he had to be, but something ended up calling his attention. When they passed through that field those weird cows (or whatever) diverted from them, obviously keeping them from being too close, and in a very ordinate and calm way, just really avoiding, not terrified or in panic. And it was because of that that Jon thought strange that the cows were kind of opening up a perfect circle not far away from where he and Damian was. Avoiding something specific.

Jon's heart pounded and at first he was scared. It could be a natural instinct to those animals and it could mean that anyone could be there. And then he thought it again. _Anyone_.

"Damian!" he called low, but he didn't wait for Damian even to hear him before he walked forward. The animals calmly opened the way for him and his heart beat faster. A few more animals moved and Jon saw the silhouette of a man in the ground.

"Dad...?" he whispered, lowering the gun when he recognized the clothing, since he couldn't see the face. "Dad. Dad!"

Jon held his voice, but he could be flying again so fast he ran to him. Clark was on the ground, unconscious but seeming fine as Jon grabbed his arm to turn him. He was breathing, warm and unharmed, what made Jon's eyes burn in relief. Pulling his father's head to his lap, Jon looked back to find Damian, again feeling helpless and weak, but so grateful for his father to be found.

Damian was already pissed that when he broke off that place with drinkable water he disinfected and what he thought to be maps the goddamn boy managed to vanish, but only because he could have gotten himself into trouble. Crouching in the higher place, he noticed the same pattern of animals, and amidst leaves, what it seemed to be Jon’s clothes. He jumped off to the ground, sprinting to where he saw them. Now he didn’t really care with the  discretion; he was all in. The moment he laid eyes on Jon and Clark, he didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or to frown. Nevertheless, he pulled the transmitter and warned Batman of their whereabouts. He fell to his knees beside both of them and handed the cold water he had in the plastic bag for Jon.

“Put this under his nape. It might help with the unconsciousness.” Damian said as started checking his vitals, eye and heartbeats. Concluding it was all probably from the low oxygen in there, he picked the breathing filter, which wasn’t bigger than a medical mask, putting it on Clark’s face. “He’s stable, ok? He’s pale but the lips aren’t cyanotic, he is oxygenated enough and this will help.” Then, he held Jon’s face and stared into the blue of his eyes. “We’ll get you two out of this planet.”

And Damian didn’t know if the aliens realized their greenhouse had been broken into, if they caught their signal, listened to Jon or merely smelled their fear. Whatever it could be, there was a noise. The same sound of that swift cargo transport they saw earlier, then disembarking, and footsteps. Way too many.

“Oh-oh.” Damian jumped to his feet, unsheathing his blades.

Probably Batman would be there soon enough to pick them up and fight those aliens with advantage before they reach them.

That, or the aliens would arrive sooner to that spot and find Clark and Jon, who they wanted from the start, and who where completely defenseless by now.

A teleporting sign would be needed now.

The answer was clear.

“Jon, get your father out of here. To the woods. I’ll buy us time.”

It was an order, not a conversation or a request, so he didn’t listen what could be said back. He ran up the hill to meet those aliens and fight, with the sole purpose of calling the attention of all of them and stalling, trying to remain alive for the time it would take the help to arrive.

The aliens were about ten feet tall and looked ruthless; their thick looking skins, their clothes as in armors, their reddish color. Damian just threw a batarang in one of them but it only cut superficially. It was enough, however, to call their attention.

"No, no, no!" Jon shook his head, looking at Damian putting himself in danger to protect them and at the same time he hugged his father closer to keep him safe in his own useless and weak way. And maybe it was that hug or all that noise that made an already half-conscious Clark wake up at once. Maybe it was the fact that his son was in danger that made him open his eyes and look around already alert and a little frightened.

"Son!" he called as he sat down, rubbing his nape, and he barely had time to hug him back. "I'm fine! How are-? Why-?"

Clark sighed. Not the time for questions.

"Dad! We were teleported to a Red Sun planet and Damian-" Jon pointed. He understood that wasn't time for anything but action and Damian needed their help.

Both got up and in the following second one of those aliens was coming after them. Even if still weak, Clark stepped forward and with a jump punched the alien in what he thought to be the stomach in those fairly humanoid species - it worked only to hurt his hand. Too numb on adrenaline, Jon barely felt pain, and he didn't remain still, shooting the alien with the gun Damian left with him, running away trying to reach his friend. There was soon another alien coming for them and he didn't have an alternative but fighting. Clark stepped in front of his son and roared for him to stay back, more to get his attention than expecting it to understand.

Damian almost didn’t believe he was seeing those two masterful idiots coming his way, but what else to expect from Kents than to be suicidal?

He jumped on the back of that alien that cornered them and used a cord to strangle it, while pulling it to make the body bend in front of him like a living shield.

“I’ve literally come here for you two to hide and not get hurt! If I wanted you to fight with me I would’ve run away with you, you morons!” Damian scolded both, when jumping to the front of them. He threw a weapons to them and kept on fighting even harder not to let them reach Jon and Clark. Both were indeed skilled fighters yet, but their habitual rhythm left them in too much disadvantage in that environment.

Without listening to either Clark or Jon, he just jumped in their defense no matter what it costed. But they didn’t want to hurt the Kent; they wanted to capture them. It was very clear by then.

In what could be a minute Damian listened to the super-sonic blast, the same moment Clark cried out for Jon to watch his back because he was about to be grabbed and held with some weird kind of rope. So Damian jumped towards him and kicked the alien’s arm with both legs, leaning on it to straddle his huge shoulder and strangle him with his legs.

“You’re taking him only over, my, dead, body!” He said, in each comma hitting the alien in the face, drawing both a brownish blood from his opponent and vivid red from his own hand.

That was when the alien used the cord he wanted to restrain Jon with and wrapped Damian with it. An electric discharge froze his body and he shook entirely as it electrocuted him. When it released Damian on the floor roughly, he fell barely conscious on the ground.

Crying out for Damian, Jon ran to him the moment that he saw him being contained. Falling to his knees beside his friend, he held him almost like he was holding his father moments ago, looking at the alien that hurt him in a fierce way. If Jon could he would rip that alien in two with his bare hands.

"Stay away from him!" he screamed at the top of his lungs and for a moment he thought it worked before noticing that they stopped because of the ship above them.

The black spaceship cut through the air to their location and a hatch opened under it, someone jumping off skillfully in an abrasion resistant rope ladder to catch them - it was Nightwing.

Clark jumped closer to the kids still fighting two of those aliens and trying to keep these things away from the boys even after seeing the ship. To Clark, knowing that Bruce was there only gave him strength to keep on fighting.

It took them just a couple more seconds, long seconds, for the guns in the ship to lock and fire precisely in each alien, making them all fall to the ground. Almost too easy.

Under the still protective figure of Jon, Damian laid half-conscious, clothes, skin and flesh burned in lines, breathing shortly. The pain in his chest was immense and maybe it was the tightness of when he was wrapped by those cords or the violent muscle contraction, but his arms felt useless as well. Still he was thankful he was the one who endured it. He could survive electrical shock, he had survived them before _methodically_ , he was stronger to them than regular humans.

Nightwing jumped to the ground and in the next moment it was Batman sliding down while the spaceship kept on hovering above them. They left Duke piloting.

“Damian!” Dick ran to his brother.

“Help the Kents out, Nightwing.” Batman said right away, following him. “I’ve got Robin.”

“I’m fine, I’m-...” There it was almost ridiculous for Damian to try to say so, because it was just pointless blabbering: his tongue barely responded and neither did his faltering arms when he lifted himself trying to sit, only managing to do so because of Jon. “...alive. I’m alive.”

When Bruce knelt on the floor beside Jon, it was the one moment Superboy left his side.

“I’m relieved to see you and your dad made it out alive. May I?” And it was with the same gentleness that he held Damian. “You are really brave, son. But you gave me quite a scare.” Bruce held Damian in his arms and locked him against his body firmly, taking as much care as possible not to hurt him more where the burns were.

Damian was confused, but that was a definition. His head was bursting and his body was a wreck, but they were going up in the spaceship, and they would go home. And, most importantly, Jon and Clark were alive and barely harmed. So he could call it a success.

Jon watched the scene for a moment and even with the adrenaline rush he couldn't hold back a smile. Being sure that Damian would be fine, Jon turned to look for his father and ran to him, hugging him tight.

"This is over! We're going home, dad!"

Clark giggled, hugging his son back.

"I'm the one who’s supposed to be comforting you!" he kissed Jon's hair before cupping his face, looking at him. "I'm so glad you and Damian are safe."

"We should get going, sir!" Nightwing said firmly but the respect on his voice was notable, making Clark smile.

They ran to climb up to the hatch and quickly they entered the ship.


	4. Chapter 4

Once inside, Clark looked at Bruce and smiled for seeing him with his son. He could feel his own kid looking at them too. As the ship flew away, Clark whispered something to Jon and both walked closer to the Waynes.

"Can I help, Batman?" Jon asked, looking at Damian. In many ways he felt responsible for his wounds.

Bruce released gently Damian sitting on a bench and Dick was already bringing the first aid kit.

“You can help him taking off the burnt clothes from his torso so we can check the gravity of the burns underneath. This fabric is fire resistant, it won’t glue to his skin, but even so it’s scorched. Take care anyway.”

Damian looked like an annoyed kid, trying to do it himself, but his arms looked harmed and his hands had no grip. It was like the muscle didn’t respond properly, and the fact that he felt ridiculous trying to move and that secretly he's seriously worried about it made him even angrier. When Jon opened the first buttons, their gazes crossed.

“Don't look a’ me with ‘ese puppy eyes. What’s done’s done.” He said with a slurred voice. “But when I tell you to stay down, you don’t come with me, you stay the fuck down!”

“Son...” It was Bruce who answered.

“What?” Damian answered harshly.

“Do you really think a Kent will leave a partner out there, no matter how bad the odds are against them? Forget it. Believe me, I’ve tried.” He glanced at Clark and almost imperceptibly smiled.

“Morons.” Damian muttered, allowing his father to take off the upper part of his uniform. Bruce held the necklace Damian always wore and took it off altogether. Shirtless, it could be seen that there were second degree burns in lines where he had been tied with the cords, probably because the special clothing protected him from some of the damage.

“He’s just scared you could be hurt, Jon.” Dick said, approaching him with a portable body scan. “Damian’s a softie. He gets angry when he’s worried, and if he’s angry all the time with you...” 

“Go to hell, Richard.” 

It didn’t do but making him grin and wink at the Kents. 

“Oh, like I don’t know you Waynes. You did a wonderful job, Robin, let it go now. And your arms will be good as soon as the muscular tension wears off. You do have a couple of cracked ribs, though. Middle ribs, not broken, nothing serious, we might have to glue them back. Just keep your posture and don't use strength.” Dick applied a subdermal anesthetic on him and turned to Jon, offering him an unguent in a small pot. “Can you apply those on his burns then patch up the wounds in his hands? I’ll get you guys some water and food while Batman and Superman discuss the mission.”

"Thanks, Dick!" Jon giggled holding the pot and sat down beside Damian. "Relax, okay? It'll not kill you to accept some help from me, you know?"

He looked at Damian and turned to him. He was so injured and he couldn't help but feeling bad for him. As soon as his smeared fingers touched Damian's chest he started to talk to keep him from beginning to complain about the help.

"You're right, you know?”

“Always.”

“ _ About the training thing.  _ I need to be more prepared to everything and, I'm not saying that I'm okay with guns, but a few classes wouldn't be bad!" he kept talking on and on while his fingers slid cautiously over Damian's injuries, and wasn't it funny to notice how much muscle he has? Since when has Damian become so... grown up?

Damian allowed Jon to help him without further complaining, but Jon seemed to go on blabbering just so that he doesn't get the chance to indeed protest. He couldn't help a chuckle. It was fairly adorable. 

"We don't do guns either.” Ignoring the rest of the pointless driveling, he focused on the start, where the subject was actually important. “It's a  _ bat-family _ thing, too. But tasers and blasters like that one come in handy often. You could use some training indeed. I could see you used blades well, though. Nice to see that you remember." He hushed, noticing his rage was soothing. The small injection of anesthetic and the unguent Jon was applying on his skin were relieving his pain, which apparently turned out to be the main reason for his anger in the moment. His voice went lower and gentler as he talked to Jon and he mentioned the kinds of training that could be adequate for him. Quite soon Dick came back and approached both. He offered a water bottle and a highly caloric protein bar for Jon, the only kind of food they had in there. Then he opened the second bottle, putting a straw inside it and offering it to Damian. He just looked at Dick's hand and didn't even put on the effort to try to lift his hand; he knew he couldn't, and if he could, he wouldn't be able to close his fingers in a grasp.  

"You suck, Grayson." He glared at Dick. “I can’t seize it now.”

"Duh, that's why I'm holding it, come on, drink some." Nightwing insisted, getting closer with the bottle to his face.

"I'm not drinking from your hand like a paralytic vegetable." Damian turned his face. "I'm good, just go."

Dick rolled his eyes.

"Kiddo, I can't with your scenes now, I’ve gotta hand water and food for Supes too." He left the bottle and the protein bar beside him before leaving. "Then drink it here bending like a dog if you find it more dignifying."

The entire time Jon was shaking his head and in the moment that Dick left he bent and grabbed those stuff, putting his own aside.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn like that? Seriously, it will not kill you to accept help! You're not a god, Damian! Shocking, I know!"

Sometimes Jon ran out of patience with Damian and he wished he could shake him until he learns how to be more gentle with people. Instead he held the water with the straw in front of Damian's face, waiting for him to drink it.

"C'mon! We both know you're thirsty! Half an hour ago you suggested us to drink my filtered pee! Do not force me to drink it and spit on your mouth cause I'll do it if you refuse my help!"

Jon was just trying to be annoying and gross and he was so determined that he barely heard when Dick chuckled on his way with food and water for the older. Oh boy, if he could lock those two in a room…

"Are you okay?" Clark asked Dick with a gentle smile, looking at him.

"Yes, thank you, sir! Just came with food and water for you, sir!"

"Thank you, Richard, but enough with the 'sir', please!" Clark giggled, accepting the water and opening the bottle for a sip.

"In front of Batman? No way, sir! I have respect both for you and for my life!" Dick smiled wide, playfully, and turned on his heels, leaving them alone again.

"You raised him right!" Clark laughed low after a sip of his water. "And Damian too! Your whole... Family. They're all great kids, I mean!"

Bruce looked at the blue eyes of Clark’s and wondered whether that could mean something else beneath the layers of cordiality. After all these years... 

Pitiful how he could become clueless when it comes to certain stuff with Clark, mainly those amidst the untouchable and courageous gentleness of his manners.

“They all raised themselves right, I suppose. You aced the parenting thing; me, I didn’t do more than a push here and there. All of them had always been strong and independent men to begin with. ” He glanced at their sons and shook his head very lightly. “Yet Dick had always been…  _ flexible _ . Damian is tougher. Rougher. It amuses me a lot to see how Jon manages to bend him using gentleness, but also stubborn, brute strength. Reminds me of someone.”

And indeed Damian sighed because the one person more headstrong than he was that he knew was Jon when he decided it was worth the fight; and once he made up his mind Jon could make him indeed drink spitted water just so he can win the argument. Damian just bit the straw at once and started sucking water; in some seconds he drank three quarters of the bottle and stopped only so that Jon couldn’t prove a point - however it was already proven.

“Now you drink yours, jackass, because as far as I remember you were the one whining about how thirsty and hungry you were.”

Too frequently Damian just looked at Jon and thanked silently for his patience in sticking around no matter how despicable his Wayne friend could get. Damian wondered whether he would be brave enough to utter that one day, but he would rather face a pack of aliens all by himself again.

Unaware of such feelings and unaffected by rude tone, Jon just grinned and grabbed the protein bar, opening it kind of proud of himself.

"Ok, as soon as you eat it!" he opened a wide smile and offered Damian the bar the same way he did with the water. "And do it quickly, I'm hungry too!" he added when it seemed that Damian was about to complain.

On the other corner of the ship Clark was giving almost the same look at Bruce, kind of wanting to laugh but respecting the seriousness of his friend.

"They're all your kids, but Damian is definitely your blood. There's absolutely no way of denying it! A tough skin but a soft heart, just like you!" Clark finished his bottle and began to eat his protein bar, glancing behind him to look at the kids. "Kents and Waynes make great teams!"

“It’s a way of putting it.” Bruce finished, laconic. He allowed Clark to just eat his protein bar without further interruption. A bit later, he added. “Unless you’d rather not, you two can stay with us in the manor. In the next days, I believe Jon would rather stay with Lois, but I don’t know about you while we don’t settle the matters with your house and personal documents. Needless to say, we’ve got it covered for you.”

Clark sighed, a soft smile.

"I can’t begin to thank you, Bruce. And it’s a good idea! I'll ask Jon. Maybe he would like to stay and babysit Damian for once!" He laughed and grabbed another bottle of water to himself.

It's had been a long time since he and Bruce shared the same space like that. Not that the manor was small and that they would be forced to stay in the same rooms, but it was a kind of intimacy he didn't know anymore around Bruce and it was kind of sad to picture.

"By the way, I have to contact Lois. For how long have we been away?"

Bruce shook his head.

"It's of no use calling her. Due to the jumps, we'll get there faster than communication will unless we stop and use teleportation tech. You've been away for three Earth days, but I've already contacted her before we left. I knew she would've been in tremendous distress. She'll be waiting in the manor as well. You know her. No one gets between her and what she wants." The way he said it, however, was full of approval. No matter the odds and the implications, he appreciated Lois a lot. She was a strong, clever woman and a great mother, who made Clark very happy and gave him the family he deserved. Even now, after an unusually calm and amicable divorce, they remain good friends. He, Bruce, however, was too bitter to say he didn't hold any grudges, but it would be terribly unfair if he blamed anyone but himself for his own mess and his own unsolved matters. 

It was interesting to watch the parallel as he saw his son lowering his guard before Jon just because of his never quitting ways.

Meanwhile, Damian just bit off the protein bar. It tasted really flavorless, but he was so hungry his stomach growled the moment he started chewing. The thing with those bars were that they were designed to fill in starvation needs even in shrunk stomachs; that meaning that one bar was enough to make one full, even if willing to eat something tasty afterwards.

“That’s ok, Jon.” He muttered almost thankfully, just not saying the words, and went on almost tenderly. “Now really. Have some, too. You’ll end up fainting.”

Jon finished his protein in a blink of eyes, the same way he drank all his water, sighing satisfied.

"I'm so glad we're going back home!" he released his body in the seat and tilted his head a little closer to Damian. "Not that spending some quality time with you is bad, but we should restrict camping to Earth! Water?" he offered Damian's water for him to finish it, with another smile.

Damian just accepted the water Jon offered him, without much ado, and finished drinking it. Sighing, he released his body back, leaning on the wall behind himself. Adrenaline was wearing off quickly and both that, the anesthetic and Jon's presence around him was making him relax little by little. 

"We could camp indeed." He chuckled, blinking heavily. "It'll be nice to see you cheating, lighting the bonfire with your eyes and starving poor mosquitoes that land in your skin. For now I’d settle for a couch and a pizza. These protein bars are horrifying." Lazily he chuckled, and blinked slower. They still mumbled over something else, laughing about what they could have for a decent meal, and almost in between a sentence Damian fell asleep still sitting, shoulder to shoulder with Jon.

"Yeah, but we-" Jon started then he looked at his side and saw Damian sleeping.

How many times has he seen Damian sleeping? Does he sleep at all? Well, obviously he was too tired to even care, what would make him wake up all grumpy later, and Jon could only smile at it. Slowly and as gently as possible he lifted his arm and passed it around Damian's shoulders to make him as comfortable as possible, and eventually his friend ended up with his head on his shoulder, making Jon smile even wider.

"Thank you for everything, D.!" Jon hushed, leaning his head on Damian's and he was so relaxed that he closed his eyes too, even if he didn't feel sleepy right now.

"Thank you for everything, Bruce!" Clark repeated those same words to Bruce, tapping his shoulder and letting his hand rest in there for a moment. "Later you can fill me in with this investigation. I'm still confused about all this trouble for kidnapping me and Jon. Any clue about who did it?"

Bruce turned in silence, making Clark's hand slip from his shoulder and flinching minimally when it did. Without any word, he was just expecting to be followed. The moment Clark approached enough, he started showing the holograms. 

"The readings tell that they would've transported you to what resembles an actual scientific reserve if Damian didn’t mess the transporter. My guess is, for your bone marrow, since they can't pierce you on Earth. And Jon, you know I don't enjoy speaking of him this way, but we do know that his hybrid nature makes him a remarkable specimen. He's already as strong in powers as you are and he'll be stronger." He showed Jon's readings, from when he and Clark studied his changes and the fluctuation on his powers from emotion-driven peaks. "It's not that hard to picture he is the link to comprehend how kryptonian genes interact with other species, to build any kind of adaptation. But out-earthly issues are for the Lanterns. I've sent them the briefing and another League meeting is scheduled for tomorrow. What concerns us, as earthlings, is that someone from Earth certainly enabled this. It comes to my mind one person who's been meddling with Kryptonian cloning, but it's risky to point a finger at him now. I just don't buy Luthor's change of heart."

***

When Damian woke up, listening to his name being called, he opened his eyes to himself lying on Jon's chest as he leaned on a corner. For some reason, he was pretty sure he had dreamed with those heartbeats, and he pushed himself away of those ridiculously wide pecs, noticing his shuddering arms started working better again.

Dick had his arms crossed and was biting his grin, standing before them both.

"You shut your mouth." Damian pushed himself, sitting. He was completely confused for having slept this heavily. He's used to jump at the slightest sound.

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were about to."

"Maybe about you needing to keep your posture, try not to finish breaking these ribs of yours."

"How long until we get to fucking Earth?"  He wiped his own face and it was absurd to notice he had been  _ drooling _ . "We desperately need a shower and something deep fried."

"I came here to wake you up because you have to go to your seats and fasten your seat belts, fifteen minutes to the jump. Wake up your sleeping beauty, too, stat." Dick gave his back.

"Do you happen to have a trumpet?" Damian muttered and Dick got to laugh as he walked away. He thought of shaking Jon already, but he lacked the courage. Easily, he poked his arm and pushed him a few times, calling his name actually gently.

"What? What?" Jon woke up surprisingly easily, but a little scared and alert, like he had forgotten for a moment that they weren't in that hostile planet anymore. "Ugh! Sorry! I shouldn't have fallen asleep, it was my turn to watch you..."

He said the last thing while rubbing his eyes and tried to make it sound like a joke. With a sigh he gazed around and spotted his father still talking with Bruce.

"Are we there yet?"

Damian was putting his ragged clothes on again quickly, even though his arms weren’t fully responsive. 

“We’re almost. We’re going to enter in warp in fifteen minutes so get the fuck up and let’s strap ourselves to the chairs!” Damian’s voice, however, wasn’t really that moody; he just sounded playful, though still acid.

The next hour or so had been procedural, but eternal and boring. Their entering in the Earth’s orbit was fine, and so was landing on the League’s headquarters. Arriving there was still not being on Earth, but thankfully it didn’t go on much further. The Kents were in their pajamas, after all, but halfway back to Gotham they had already recovered their powers. All injuries were healed, just like that, and Damian envied that for a small while (what he wasn’t really used to) when he was stretching his arms and trying to get rid of the muscular strain they had been going through.

The moment they arrived in the Wayne mansion, a woman stormed out of the door, crying out for Jon, her son, and running to hug him tight. They clashed and Jon lifted her in the air for some seconds. Over her son’s shoulder, Lois smiled at Clark and whispered, emotional.

“I’m so, so happy you are alright.”

When her sharp eyes noticed a worn out, blood-stained Damian with his clothes all ragged and burnt passing through silently, Lois dared to break the so needed hug and walked the steps to rest her hand on the young man’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, Damian.” She said, teary eyes, then chuckled “I know you are not very into these mushy fluffy feelings, but all the time I’ve been here Alfred filled me in on what you did for my son and for Clark. I’m sure you protected them as always, so you will have to deal with the fact that you’re my hero!”

Damian just smiled, actually. Her tone was ironic and truthful at the same time and he just nodded.

“I’ve promised I won’t let harm come your son’s way, haven’t I? It’s nothing.” He said, but then gazed at Clark the longest, since he was to whom he had said that sentence precisely. He added very quickly the next sentence, not to let anyone argue back with anything. “Now you excuse me, but I am in dire need of a shower.”

Damian gave his back readily and just left for the insides of the mansion, towards his bedroom. The rest of them gathered together.

“Clark had agreed already, but you and Jon should also stay the night, Lois.” Bruce said. “It’s late already. There’s plenty of room for you all.”

"We're going to stay?" Jon said suddenly popping in the middle of the adults, and he seemed excited. "Hey, mom, you can cook and I can help you!"

"Sure, Jon!" Lois smiled, messing her son's hair. "But first go find Damian to guide you to a bathroom because you need a shower too. And... This new jacket of yours...?" she frowned, pointing to his jacket.

"Oh! It's Damian's! I'll look for him to give it back!" Jon kissed her cheek and hugged his father, then with a respectful nod to Bruce he gave his back to them and ran after Damian.

"Our sons... What a pair!" Lois giggled, looking at both men. She had that feeling that everyone knew about them before themselves.

"They're really good friends!" Clark said and turned to Bruce, giving a soft punch on his arm. "Like us!"

Lois only lowered her eyes to the ground, thinking that Clark could be right. It seems to be the same situation of stubbornness and blindness in both cases. With a nice smile she thanked Bruce again and said she would look for Alfred,  leaving them alone so they could talk about their superhero stuff.

Meanwhile, Jon was leaving the BatCave with Dick, who he found in the way, and they were talking about the rescue and everything.

"And then Damian said that he would give me training for my birthday!" Jon scoffs, crossing his arms. "But I think this is just revenge because I never give him cool things on his birthday!" 

Dick frowned, arms crossed too.

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." Jon sighed. "He always gives me cool stuff. It's like he can read my mind and guess exactly what I want or need. But I'm not so good with these things. I like crafting, but it's more like 'crapting'!" he giggled and shrugged. "I'm not saying that Damian is shallow or ungrateful, but, let's face it, he's not the type of guy that uses homemade bracelets or necklaces. I'm just superbad at giving presents!"

Dick thought about it for a while, humming low to himself before smirking to Jon.

"A brown bracelet? All traced and tied with a few meteorite beads?"

Jon stopped walking, looking at Dick. Oh, no. He was kidding, but he didn't want to hear that Dick had found it in the trash or something.

"Y-yeah..."

"I saw it a few times in Damian's room! It's in a drawer with just other cute stuff. Each of them has a little cushion for itself. A bat made of clay and a miniature of Robin on a rock. Boy, he almost cut off my hands off when I tried to hold it!” Dick giggled and tapped gently Jon's shoulder, then smiling gently at him. "He cares. A lot. But we know him, right?"

With a wink Dick pointed the way Jon should follow to be in Damian's room from where they were, even though Jon had been there before, and then kept on his way, leaving behind a Jon that barely could keep that happiness inside of him. Flying to Damian's room he thought that it was a great day after all. Both his parents were safe, they're all back home, and he had the best friend in the universe.


	5. Chapter 5

Damian's bedroom had an elegant aura that was designed to be enhanced by the night lights. The high walls could cover two floors, where there was a mezzanine in one side and huge windows in the other. The walls were in a bluish gray and the long veil curtains, cascading soft and transparent, were just for decoration purposes, for there were retractile black blinds that would cover the glasses when the sunlight was unwanted - probably frequently, if not always. The huge bed had dark silver covers, shining just the exact amount, as well as the black glistening armchairs and hammock chairs. There were lamps with curvy shapes near a couch and beside an enormous, slim television, and just a few decorative stuff around: a white bookcase with glass shelves perfectly organized by cover colors, one big black rug before the television, and one huge painting hanging on the wall above the bed, which consisted in just a white canvas with black random ink patterns. No surface held anything decorative or on its top, neither center table or his nightstands, as well as there was absolutely no clutter. It all had a real home decor magazine vibe, he was aware of it and it pleased him.

When Damian left his bathroom, naked, he was wiping his hair with the towel, and there were only the dim lights that were cast against the wall on. It would be hard to recall the last time he actually turned the main lamp on. Even though the lights were off, his senses were still all on, so he would notice someone in, near the door, and turning quickly he saw Jon just standing there, like the clueless dork he is.

" _Have you ever heard of knocking?"_ Damian roared, pulling the towel to his hips. He wouldn't bother to get embarrassed, but still he would wrap the towel around his waist, turning to turn some lights on and illuminate decently the room.

Jon froze for a second, but he still was too joyful to care.

“Sorry! I just-" he pointed behind him, to the door, then stretched his hand to close it and walked in, smiling like a goof. In one moment he was hugging Damian, ignoring everything that made the moment uncomfortable. He just feel like he had to do it.

He didn't know what to say or do, but he didn't want to release Damian so soon.

Damian was still puzzled on why Jon was hugging him while he was half-nude in the middle of his bedroom, and his heart raced so fast he feared Jon would conclude something out of listening to it. But something in the purity of his ways made it less awkward than even the natural response of only trying to excuse himself and looking away. It felt like Jon to be this blunt, and it kind of suited him beautifully like it wouldn't to anyone else.

Also, it wasn't like they've never seen each other undressed for a number of reasons, but ever since the last year, as he finally came to terms that Jon had a mouth he wanted to kiss instead of - only - punch, Damian avoided anything that could be disrespectful now that he was aware of it. And, worse, that could make a seventeen year old physically desire a fifteen just because his body is basically fully mature. He didn't see Jon that way and he didn't want to risk starting.

"I'm with your jacket!" Jon said suddenly, stepping back and scratching his nape as he looked at his own feet. "And we'll spend the night here, you know? Can you show me where I'll stay?"

It was very unusual for Damian to blank, as in not being able to think at all, and it was desperating even if for a couple of seconds.

"Uh, you- yeah- just, just keep the jacket, or throw it away along with your pajamas, they're filthy rags already. And you are disgusting as well, go take a shower. Or a bath if you wanna.” He walked away from Jon and gave his back to be able to recover his train of thoughts. He pointed at the bathroom and walked in the closet, without closing the door. “Towels are under the sink, I’ll get you some clothes, hm, some of mine that might fit you.”

He scoffed while picking an underwear to himself and wearing it under the towel, which he took off and hung aside.

“And about your last question, you can sleep in your mother’s or father’s bedroom, I’m sure you’re done cuddling with me for the night.”

At first Jon was looking around trying to figure out where could it be Damian's secret drawer, resisting the will to X-ray everything, so he didn't pay much attention on what his friend was saying. Only after blinking quickly a few times was that he turned to Damian and smiled at him, hands on waist.

"Damian, even I am too grown up to sleep with my mom!" Jon rolled his eyes and scoffed, trying to sound cool. Then with a short smile he began to walk to the bathroom, still gazing around wondering about that drawer. He really hoped Dick was telling the truth. "I'll take the shower here, though! I don't really care where I'll sleep since it is in a real warm and soft bed!"

Jon took off the jacket and the top of his pajamas before getting in the bathroom, but he left the door open just so that they could keep talking.

"I think you should rest for a while before dinner. You seemed pretty tired before. Oh!" his head popped out of the door suddenly" And your injuries? Still hurt?"

“That’s how injuries go for regular people, Jon. They remain hurting for a while.” Damian said with an amused ironic tone, putting sweatpants and a T-shirt on. “But Dick gave me an anesthetic I didn’t even need so I’m more than good. It’s not the first time I’m burnt by electricity or that I have pair of cracked ribs. Don’t worry about that.“ He said like it was a walk in the park, starting to search for clothes that could fit Jon, but he never kept anything that wouldn’t fit him perfecty. “I’ll just slow down a bit, keep myself off of the streets, and die of boredom in the meantime.”

“Shouldn't you, like, I don't know, search for a doctor? Or Alfred?" Jon almost yelled while he opened the faucet, already naked and ready for the shower, completely fine with the open door. "For broken ribs do you use a cast or gaze? Anyway you should rest! Or listen to me for once!"

"A doctor. You make me laugh, Kent." He grabbed the black pajamas he chose for Jon and got out of the closet, walking the few steps to the bathroom. "Stuff in ribs you just leave them there and make sure your lungs are clear. If they are broken indeed and out of place something may need to be done, but cracked I just have to make sure they don't break at once and hurt my lungs." As he entered the bathroom, he knew that the glass was dark and blurred enough for him not to see Jon naked, but he didn't look directly even so. _Later I’ll go somewhere to just glue them together at once, I don’t have the spare time._

"I've already told you I'll rest. Help me out with this, then, ok." It was physically hard for Damian to ask for help, like it just doesn't go through his throat properly. "I'll need a distraction before I start jumping off windows, you kind of... you are the specialist in distracting me from what's important." Oh, it didn't slightly go out the way he meant it to, but it would have to do, that's just him. "Yeah. Your clothes are here on the sink." He said before leaving the bathroom to sit on a recliner chair near the window.

Jon scoffed, washing his hair. Damian and his unique way of showing affection. Well, he thought, it will no longer work with him. It never really worked, but now it was… different. Damian had a freaking drawer to keep his gifts and Jon couldn't explain how much it made him happy. And here it came again, that will to hug Damian tight, to have him inside his arms just because. Giggling to himself Jon finished the shower and dressed up quickly, going to where Damian was and sitting on the edge of his bed, closer to him.

"I was thinking... Can I come back and spend this weekend here? We’ve never really had a sleepover! We’ve always had to end it before it started!" he said remembering all the times that they had to interrupt something to fight crime or something alike. He wasn't complaining, though, it was kind of fun to be honest. "Unless you're too tired of my face..."

“I’ve been tired of your face since we’ve met, yet here you are.” Damian said, but half-smiled at him, with all tenderness there could be in that young man’s harsh manners.

Every time they had a sleepover they ended up on the street to fight crime, train, spar, fight each other or all of it. Looking back, Damian knew that while Jon wanted a friend, Damian’s twisted mind, even after accepting Jon as his friend, thought friendship worked as partnership. He didn’t know by heart how to be a kid or even a teen - all he knew was duty, missions and training. Yet there Jon was, still rejoicing on the littlest of hints of regular friendship he could see in him, on every time he got Damian to do something adorably trivial, touchingly ordinary. It was really remarkable how Jon never gave up on that; it was precious. He was stubborn as a mule, that was true, but he was also pure of heart and not rarely Damian wondered what has he ever done to deserve this much.

Getting up and walking to the bed, sitting calmly beside him, Damian messed Jon’s wet hair. “Come over. It will be fun, we can order pizza, braid each other’s hair, talk about boys, do each other’s nails, make pillow fights, watch a movie and-“ At once Damian released his body on the bed, closing his eyes, and pretended to snort, as if the very mention of such activities was so boring it would make him fall asleep like fainting right away. Still, he couldn’t help the snickering.

Jon bent over Damian, giggling and willing to tickle him, but he remembered about his ribs. So now he had one hand on Damian's waist and he was slightly bent over him, smiling, when he tilted his head like a puppy.

"Talk about boys?" he got it, it was a joke along with everything else Damian said, but he said it so naturally it made Jon wonder.

Damian didn’t answer; he barely thought of anything at all. That little shit, his adorableness is so strong it contamines and taints him, a ruthless fighter, with wills of cuddling or just diving inside the blue of his eyes.

With a chuckle Jon straightened his posture and chuckled one last time, a bit bothered with what he realized.

"Ok, so... I'll go downstairs and help my mom and Alfred with the dinner, and I'll sleep in your room so we can keep on planning this weekend!" with a last smile he got up and looked at Damian. He knew that what was bothering him wasn't the perspective of Damian being into boys, but the fact that maybe he didn't make his friend comfortable enough to talk about it with him. He wanted Damian to trust him as much as he trusted Damian. "You stay and try to sleep some more! I don't care if you have already rested before!"

Gently kicking Damian's foot, Jon gave his back to him and left the room, thinking about how he could be a better friend to Damian.

Damian remained laid in bed for a moment else after Jon left just so that he could sigh as deeply as he wanted. He had that feeling that Jon’s head was working on the results of their alien internship and that he would come to him full of doubts and questions, ready to talk things through and work feelings out. It must be really bugging him, if he doesn’t want to spend that night with his mother or father instead even after what happened.

Jon had an apple pie relationship with his parents, looking like the stereotype of the perfect family even if the both of them are divorced now. During the dinner he witnessed that once more. Sitting there were Richard, Damian on and Alfred on one side, and on the other Lois, Jon and Clark, and Bruce perpendicularly to both him and Richard. They were eating with so much love even a relatively simple dish, because they had been deprived of that and both Lois and Alfred cooked so well. Then there they go, the Kents, with their openly praising words to that food, and the big smiles, and the laughter and the toasts.

Damian had had lots of meals with Lois and Clark as a couple, and then in Lane’s or in Kent’s separately, and it was always like that, like there’s someone running an ad, like there are cameras somewhere. Nothing new so far, they were like that in any other situation as well, let alone having cheese lasagna _au gratin_ and drinking wine or grape juice.

In their family, Richard - Dick - was a lot more like that, and inadmissibly Damian knew that they needed it; there should be an annoying light like him shining in the dark, even though light ruins the very concept of darkness.

Bruce knew that too, for sure. The fact that he kept Dick and Clark close to heart surely started out with something like that. Not exactly the _overly kind and joyful_ part, but the _complementing opposites_ part.

He turned to gaze at Jon with that thought in mind. Jonathan was a clumsy ball of fluff even eating dessert - Damian knew that if one finds it cute the way someone else _eats_ , it’s evident how doomed they are. The way there was cream cheese on the tip of his nose as he bit the pie made Damian even chuckle and sigh.

***

Not so much later Jon was still talking to his parents until they decided for a movie before going to sleep, what was also a small unnecessary excuse for them to be together for a little longer. Jon invited the Waynes, Dick and Alfred, but they politely refused, maybe to have their moment or to discuss something about Damian's notes on what happened. Jon suspected it could be both things.

When the movie ended, Jon, sitting between his parents, told them he would sleep in Damian's room and also commented about their sleepover on the weekend, saying they needed vacations after that experience.

"Why don't you guys have a _real_ vacation?" Lois asked, stroking his son's hair. "Away from here, but safe. I know Bruce has a house in the country..." she suggested thinking of some place away from trouble for the boys.

But Jon chuckled, laying his head on the backrest of the couch.

"And killing Damian of boredom? He barely visited me when he _needed_ it!"

"Bruce has a nice safe house on the beach!" Clark said quickly, remembering the place, and something on his memories made him blush a little and clean his throat, turning his face to the side to grab his water. "I mean-"

"That sounds fun!" Lois said, interrupting, sounding excited. "What do you think?"

Jon actually enjoyed the idea. A lot! He thanked both for the suggestion and kissing them he wished them good night before going to the bedroom.

There was already a big mattress settled on the floor, beside Damian's bed, and Jon still wondered how everything gets done so fast in that house. Taking his T-shirt off he ignored the mattress and sat on Damian's bed, sighing before releasing his body on it. He smiled at the ceiling, satisfied about how everything went right, and in one minute he fell asleep there.

When Damian came back to his room, he sighed deeply at the sight of Jon sleeping on his bed. He started mumbling about how Jon enjoys annoying him and making things harder, and walked a little pointlessly around the bed trying to figure out what to do. A part of him wanted to push him off the bed with his feet; the other wanted to snuggle with him and caress his hair. He hesitated in laying on the floor, getting to knee, but then he just sighed again and climbed on his own bed. Jon was the one who decided for laying there, so screw everything else. There was a chance that Jon might break him in half if he moved unconsciously too hard on the bed, or even if he did that thing of hugging him like he had done when they were on the nest. Yet Damian didn’t really give a fuck.

He pulled the covers over Jon, tucking him in, and caressed the hair on his nape for a couple of seconds. Then carefully he laid beside him, a considerable space between them both, and gave his back to Jon. Reaching out, he lowered the switch that closed the blinds on the windows and the room went fully dark, no moonlight to underline anything. Even before his eyes could get used to it, he closed them and fell asleep, heavily.

***

In the main living room, Bruce was sitting on his armchair, by himself before the fireplace, his features illuminated by the flickering light, the only light in the room. There was some bourbon in the low crystal glass he had in his hand, glass which he was more swirling than effectively taking to his mouth. The crackling sound of the wood burning was muffled by the downpour of a rain that started half an hour from then. Thoughts working too fast, his brain racing and raging while in the exterior an eerie placidity seemed to reighn. Although the air isn't smokey he could smell the pine as it burns, just a faint fragrance to reassure senses.

Even with all that, through thunders, he certainly wouldn't miss the hints of another presence in the room. That presence particularly.

"Trouble sleeping, Clark?" His hoarse voice cut through, but he barely moved.

Clark couldn't hold back a low chuckle, walking in the room to get closer to Bruce.

"How do you always knows that it’s me?"

He just did. He knew how Clark moved and breathed. And distinguishing perceptions isn’t for a detective less natural than any other sense.  Without answering verbally, he just gestured for the armchair beside him, at a hand’s reach, between both just a low, small round table, inviting him to join.

"Aren't you tired of another day rescuing the Kents?"Clark added, and with a smile he sat down on the assigned chair. It was weird somehow to be near Bruce in a peaceful scenario like that, yet it was nice.

“Yes.” Bruce answered only, as if it weren’t contradictory, and now that his attention was averted, he remembered of sipping his drink. “Would you like a glass as well?”

With another chuckle as he looked at Bruce, Clark thought of declining it, but then there wouldn't remain any reason for him to stay there, so he ended up serving a drink to himself.

"To another ordinary day?" he said raising his glass, like a toast, and giggled at himself as he brought the liquid to a sip. "What are you thinking about?"

Bruce looked at Clark’s soft expression lighted in orange tones, holding the gaze for some moments.

“Plenty of things and nothing precisely.” He looked away again and tapped his fingers on the glass. “I’m a little worried about Damian, to be honest." He rest his hand on the arm of the armchair.

“Damian?" Clark asked after a sip, frowning. "Something specific about him?"

“This whole situation could’ve been prevented. I assume my responsibility, I also checked the readings and should have seen it before. But mostly, _Damian_ should have. It was his assignment.” Bruce gestured to Clark so that he shouldn’t say anything on his behalf, because he was the one about to. “I know it isn’t his fault. By far. We let things slip sometimes, it’s human only, he’s not a machine. He was the hero today, I’d not dare to say otherwise. My point is...” he looked at Clark, then, resting his eyes on him with true fatherly concern. “He did. I’m wondering why is it so, and I know he does this kind of thing when it’s about Jon. He’s overly attached, so he feels before he thinks. He compromises.”

Frowning again Clark stared at Bruce's hands for a long moment before saying something.

“Are you saying that their friendship is a weakness?" Clark lifted one brow and placed his glass aside, turning his body to Bruce. "I thought that you were over this already, this stubborn idea that working alone is more effective than in a team."

Bruce pouted for a moment, and, oddly, chuckled.

"I know better than to say so. They had been a great team, they complete each other in every way. The fact that he cares about Jon was never a problem by itself. Besides, he's friends with the Titans, if _friendship_ were the problem I would've seen it earlier with them as well. And that's why it concerns me. It isn't the first time, I've noticed it, but it is the first time they were actually in danger. I just feel like Damian's... conflicted. He's never really been a kid, and he's never really been a teenager either. I don't think he knows how to deal with emotions very well." He gave it a pause, looked at the content inside his glass and lifted it. Before sipping, he sighed. "It's a Wayne thing, I'm afraid."

Clark bent a little closer with a cocky smile and talking low to Bruce.

"It's a thing that only the Kents can handle!" to Clark it hasn't sounded so... intimate in his head, but now that he said it out loud he thought it was kind of too much. "I mean..."

With a chuckle he strained his body and reached for his glass again, but while his mind was working in something not stupid to say to Bruce he ended up pushing the glass instead of grabbing it. Without moving anything else in his body but his arm and hand, Bruce grabbed the glass right away as it wobbled near the edge of the table.

“I don’t deny it.” He slid the glass on the table, towards Clark’s hand, looking at it. The room was filled with the sudden and instant brightness of a lightning. “I’ve never really worked better alone, Clark. I was young and arrogant.”

His gaze rose and rested upon Clarks azure eyes, one million meanings. He waited for the following thunder to end to complete his point.

“That’s why I can’t let my son make the same mistakes I made.”

It made Clark swallow hard and he wasn't smiling anymore. So many things it could mean, so many that Clark _wished_ it meant and he just couldn't tell if he was interpreting it the way he wanted it to or not.

"He-he's a very clever kid, I'm sure he will not make any mistake!" Clark gazed at his own hands before getting up a little nervous. "I just came here to ask about that private beach that-that... The boys should go there, take few days off, so if you still own it I was wondering..."

Clark tucked his hands inside his pockets and after staring at his shoes he looked again at Bruce, sighing. All those feelings, why was he suddenly thinking about Bruce like that again? Why couldn’t his heart remain calm around him anymore? It was old history, they had decided it a long time ago.

"Probably Jon will talk Damian into it until he agrees, so I'm more like warning you that they probably _will_ go!"

Bruce smirked and it seemed like a light scorn at all the clumsiness and uneasiness of Clark’s. It wasn’t; not entirely at least. Some memories crossed his mind only and he was finding it even _ironic_ that Damian and Jon could go there.

“That beach, I see. As far as I know by the hired overseer, Tim goes there in some holidays, puts on some Titans party, but who knows where he and Jason are now.” Bruce scoffed. “If the boys aren’t there and if they didn’t trash the place, Damian and Jon can go. It’s... actually a good idea. It's very safe in there, untraceable. You too can go to rest, Clark. Everything is solved for you two already. There's nothing else for you to lose your sleep over.”

The step forward Clark gave wasn't thought out and he didn't know what to do next, so he remained there, parted mouth and so close to Bruce, maybe waiting for something, a word, a gesture from Bruce to light up the hopes in his heart.

"Well, then..." Clark gave a small bit on his lower lip and diverted his eyes. "Good night, Bruce!"

Before he did something he would regret later Clark left the room as fast as a normal person could go. Bruce had his family and he didn't come after him, it obviously tells that he was happy the way he was. He had moved on and Clark did the same years ago.

With his heart racing, Clark went to his own bedroom, having some trouble sleeping that night.

After a sigh, Bruce had gulped down his whisky as soon as he was certain that Clark wasn’t there any longer, even though it was pointless when he could hear him from across town if he wanted.

He shouldn’t have done what he did. He shouldn’t have implied double meanings; he should have lied.

He rubbed his eyes. Sometimes, he slipped. It wasn’t forgivable, not for him. But there was a part of him, an envious, greedy part of him that always ached for Clark. All these years. He was already blessed enough with his friendship, he couldn’t dare asking for more. He didn’t _deserve_ more.

It wasn’t fair with Clark. It had never been. There wasn’t a day he didn’t think back. He had a path paved with regrets and should-have-beens, but every time he looked at Jon he knew he had made the right choice. Clark had a beautiful son as shiny as he was, bringing light to his own son’s life now. The history repeating itself. Now that he thought of Damian doing everything to protect Jon, he started remembering his own subterfuges. Everything he did for the sake of “protection”.

But, fuck. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to be inside those arms if even for one night. The answer, however, was exactly the point.

The things he wouldn’t risk were the same which would always be in between them both.


	6. Chapter 6

Jon woke up with a sigh, feeling warm and comfortable as if he hadn't slept in a bed for ages. He was a spoiled kid, nothing new about that. Rubbing his eyes before opening them he felt lazy and good enough to fight a little with the necessity of getting up, and then he noticed that he wasn't alone on the bed. Jon turned his face and blinked at Damian's sleepy face, then he smiled. He had a serious face even when sleeping, and for sure his dreams were very serious too. With a low chuckle Jon turned his body to stare at Damian and he remained there for a long time, watching him and trying to guess the dreams that he was having right now, wishing they were peaceful.

“Keep sleeping, dummy!" Jon whispered and combed Damian's hair gently before getting up slowly not to wake him up. He really had that strong feeling of wanting to protect him, to keep him safe and happy, because it was what Damian did for him. Does for him.  
Putting his T-shirt on again, Jon flew to do his stuff before leaving the room, afraid of stepping in something and waking Damian up. A few minutes later he was following Alfred (who came from nowhere to help him, seriously spooky and awesome) to where his dad was sleeping. With no surprise Clark was already awake and ready for the breakfast, and to be honest he just wasn't downstairs by the table because he was afraid of being alone with Bruce again.

“Good morning, son! Alfred!" Clark smiled at both and hugged Jon when he came closer. "Breakfast is served?" he asked in a funny way to Alfred.

"Yes, sir! Master Bruce is already waiting for you!"

Clark passed one arm over Jon's shoulder and they walked to follow Alfred.

“Alfred, can we leave Damian sleeping a little more? He looks so tired!”

”Don't worry, young sir! If he gets up before we finish the breakfast I'll personally drag him back to his bed. By the way..." Alfred looked at Jon. "was your mattress comfortable?"

“Hmm..." Jon smiled a little embarassed, scratching his nape, suddenly feeling that it was a little weird to have slept in Damian's bed _with_ him.

"Well, this parade seems to need a girl!" Lois came from her room and Jon just loved his mother a little more right now.

Hugging both his parents Jon changed the subject until they are in the dining room, all settled for a stunning breakfast. Bruce and Dick were already there, but both were just sitting and reading, obviously waiting for their guests.

Dick opened one of his bright smiles as he saw the guests coming in and left everything aside, asking if they had slept well and how they were feeling. Bruce seemed to still be up to finish what he’s been reading before looking at them. Politely, then, he asked whether he could take Lois to her job, and if he could talk to Clark later about his; it wasn’t really easy to try to solve a destroyed house with following three days missing, even if on the country, so they would have to put on a show about gas leaking, Clark being in a hospital and Jon accompanying him because he wasn’t on the house at the moment. It was an idea they had to plan to details, and as clear and professional as possible Bruce made it tacitly clear that he wanted to deal nothing but business and their alibis. He couldn’t afford otherwise, and he couldn’t afford Clark to start avoiding him like he so clearly had done in that morning. If Bruce felt like going on with that conversation of last night - what was actually much more like wondering hypothetically - it was definitely off the table now. Back to normal. Back to their regular lives.

***

Damian opened his eyes, feeling them sandy, and as he was completely confused on what time (of the year) it was and where in the universe he was waking up, immediately he tried to sit down. He felt dizzy and his head was heavy, body like it’s been run over by a truck, but fine in the end.

“Hey!" Jon hushed, placing his portable videogame aside when he noticed that Damian was awake. There was a smile in his voice. "I was starting to get concerned!"

Still smiling Jon got up from the armchair he was sitting on and walked closer to sit on Damian's bed, beside him.

“It's almost lunch time, are you okay?"

“Lunch time of _when_?” Damian still answered, rubbing his eyes, and while his mind adjusted he ended up laughing a little, weakly.

He turned to Jon and it was a little cute scene he hated to like so bad. It was just so nice to be doing everythings and anythings beside him, so seeing him just sharing space with him without anything at all in mind but spending their time together was endearing to say the least. To say the most, he was a stupid infatuated kid. All the sweetness in the world was all there in Jon’s eyes as theirs met.

"Sorry for sleeping on your bed. Did I bother you while sleeping?"

“I barely felt you were there. Dick probably fucking doped me with that anesthetic, I don't sleep this heavily, not ever."

Damian rubbed his eyes and only then remembered how bruised his hands were, full of hematomas, knuckles wounded and scraped. “And what are you doing here, punk?” Damian said nevertheless, sitting straight. “Don't you have class? Or are you supposed to have exploded like your dad in the little play they set up? You’re a terrible liar, I told them not to involve you!”

"Oh, of course you already know everything!" Jon rolled his eyes, but in an amused way, reaching out for the glass of water and the painkiller on the nightstand. Damian had to chuckle. He didn't need anesthetic, why bother? But then again, why would he just go on feeling pain when he could just not feel it? "But no, I'll be in the hospital with my dad the whole time! The perfect excuse to stay here and pretend you'll let me nurse you!"

He offered the glass to Damian and smiled at him.

"Nurse me. You're so cute." _Fuck, I said that out loud._ Damian swallowed hard, but remained chill, as if he had meant that just as a joke, and reached out for the pill, taking it and swallowing it dry. "You're not doping me either, are you? I swear if I end up viral on the internet trying to fight crime while high on meds I'll turn into a supervillain!" He pointed at Jon with a half-smile, as they laughed weakly, and held his T-shirt by the nape to take it off his torso. "Do you have that unguent Dick gave us last night?"

“Hn? Oh, yeah!" Jon blinked, suddenly lost in thoughts, and reached out again for the nightstand, the small pot of unguent there to be used. “Speaking of which, he said that you're forbidden to train until the next week. His words, not mine, don't try to kill me with your eyes!" Jon shrugged, helping to pick Damian's T-shirt and tossing it to the side. "Before you start complaining, lay down prone! I didn't look at your back yesterday..."

Damian grunted, rolling his eyes, and leaned on the mattress, turning his body carefully. Not even he really knew why was it that he was just allowing Jon to boss him around; he was probably too sleepy yet, and that explanation made him content enough.

"He's really your big brother, Dick! I mean, I know all of them kind of are your brothers too, but Dick is like the big brother!"

Jon always found it beautiful the way Dick was always looking after Damian. Tim was kind and funny, but more like the cool brother that was always traveling around the world, sending cool souvenirs and stuff and Jason, well, Jon didn't even know very much about him, what made Dick the perfect image of a big brother that was always around to take care of the younger.

"I guess, yeah, Richard _is_  my big brother indeed. We were partners and all, he can be awesome and an asshole in equal proportions. Which isn't what everyone thinks of him, I'm well aware." He laid on the bed without sudden movements. "Ok, he is good and all, but the _crush_ people have on him is baffling. He's so over-hyped." He chuckled at what he himself said and noticed that Jon's presence behind him, unseen but hovering, brought him a shiver. He grasped the sheets and sighed, closing his eyes. Exposure was always distressing.

Biting his lower lip to hold back a chuckle, Jon began to smear the unguent on the bruises on Damian's back. He hated to see them on his skin, and maybe it was because of this that Jon decided to talk about the first thing on his mind, a distraction or something.

Don't tell him I told you this, but..." with a low chuckle and shrugging a little he continued, finding it funny to say, "I used to have a little crush on Dick myself..."

“You had _what_?" Damian said too fast, interrupting Jon, and lifted himself on his forearms before feeling a sting in his lungs that made him release his body back again on the mattress. Yet he bent his leg a bit to turn to him and glare. He just couldn't help how outraged it made him, and as well he could barely keep it together and act cool.

"Calm down!" Jon frowned, not expecting such reaction from Damian. "It's not like _that_! It was more like I thought he was so cool and awesome! And I was, like, eleven! He's your big brother, it’s just weird to think of him in any other way!"

“ _The fuck, Jonathan?_ ” Damian mumbled angrily at the same time Jon was explaining himself.

With a sigh Jon slipped his fingers up and down on Damian's back and, noticing that his friend didn't take his eyes off of him, he decided to provoke him a little bit.

“He does have a great body, tho!"

Damian narrowed his eyes and scoffed. Now, he knew Jon wanted to mess with him, it was a joke, but it kind of bothered him for real and he couldn’t precisely explain why. It would have to be the two meanings that there could be in there: either Jon didn't really like men and everything about it would just be mockery, or he actually did and found his fucking brother  attractive while his eyes passed right through him. He had to get it together, though.

It isn't like he would expect anything different.

"I guess." He snorted, releasing his head on the pillogical again. "Whatever you say."

Jon stopped, suddenly feeling bad. Why did he have to say it?

"I'm just kidding!" he said sounding a little guilty, not liking the look on Damian's face. "Really, I just know that about him because of some girls from school, because, seriously, I see Dick just as your big brother, for real!"  
He didn't have any reason to explain himself, but Jon had in his mind that he was there to make his friend happy, not to bother him without reason. That's what friendship means. Almost finishing with Damian's back, Jon tilted his head trying to look into his eyes and smiling kind of shyly.

“Besides we all have nice bodies, right? It's a hero gene, there's no escaping from it!"

That made Damian smile, feeling silly and angry with himself because of this.

“This is called _working out_ , lucky boy. Not everyone is born with an eight-pack like you did." _And this fucking pretty face,_ he feared for a split second having uttered it, and sighed at how stupid he was being. Carefully he lifted himself on his arms and sat on the bed, facing Jon and smirking at him.

"I don't mind, ok?" He lied, sighing, and shrugging. "It''s, hm, I'm so annoyed by Dick all the time yet everyone just think he’s the best, but okay, yeah, he's oh so adult and mature and he’s got that smile, I have no idea, whatever you people see. And it got me by surprise you'd say you could be also into boys by saying you had a crush on my fucking brother, that's it. As far as I remember there were just these two girls you kissed...?"

“Yeah, so far!” Jon said without thinking very much on the answer, something else in his mind. Since it was Damian who brought that subject up it would be easier for Jon to ask him what he thought last night. "And you...?" Jon looked down, at Damian's bruised hands and held one to apply the unguent over it, also a way to keep him there and not let him run away from it. "Are you gay?"

Damian actually laughed a little, weakly. That was a close one, but he would deny anything too close anyway. He really wasn't the kind of kid who wouldn't lie playing a truth or dare, you see.

“I don't really care, I guess." He scoffed, then licked his lips, looking at Jon's hands holding his. "Physical contact itself sounds alright, but the problem is that there's a _person_ attached to it, with all their boring selves and annoying whims. I don't really see why I should spend my time with such pointless things like trying to find a mate, boy or girl, and go through meeting new people and dating when I have much more important things to do."

Wasn't it stupid that he could answer that with much better sentences but still he was trying not to close definitely the door on the possibility of them in the future?

Yeah, he rooted for it. He hoped for it. He was such a sucker.

"Hmm..." Jon kept looking down, maybe to give Damian a little space even while he was being invasive like that. Caressing Damian's knuckles with the unguent he thought carefully about what he just had heard. Yeah, he knew how closed his friend was to anyone, but something in his voice was telling Jon the opposite. "Eventually you'll find someone!" he said suddenly, then chuckled when he realised how silly it sounded and he couldn't resist to making a joke out of it. "Don't lose your hopes yet, D.! One day your prince or princess will come for you and make you happy! Believe it!" Jon laughed, holding his hand in a dramatic supportive way as he looked into his eyes.

He could see Jon was mocking him, but it was all so painfully ironic and he, Damian, was playing such a pathetic cliche he could just smile and softly sigh.

"I'm not searching, and I'm not going to find it in anyone out there. That's it. Alright?" There was just one person he would go through the trouble for, and he had met that person about six years ago, when they were just kids. For him, he'd go through a date - he would take him on a dozen dates and then some, gladly. He sighed, then cleared his throat. "And if you try to hook me up with someone I swear I'll end our partnership. Are you done with this cream there or you're just enjoying feeling me up?"

Jon blinked, releasing Damian's hand in the moment he realised that he was just caressing it.

"Sorry!" he chuckled not really embarrassed about what he was doing. That was a nice thing, what happened in there, and he was appreciating the way they were opening their hearts to each other without weirdness or anything. "Anyway, I'll be here for you, Damian. Always!"

Giggling Jon diverted his eyes from him again and let himself be carried by thoughts. If Damian - no. When Damian finds someone, Jon wanted to still be around him, and he would be, no matter what.

Considering that conversation over, he sighed. What were they supposed to do now?

“No, but seriously, what's your type?" Jon made a joke one last time just to break the ice and then laughed, pretending to be ready get up and run from him.

“Don’t! Don’t even start!” Damian got to laugh; even though it wouldn't be funny at all in a way, it was, just because they were beyond such things. Because Jon cared about him, after all. "Changing the subject..." he snorted, and got up, walking to the bathroom for a short morning routine. "I've had broken bones before without anesthetic drugs and it still hasn't stopped me from going training, but since you're not going to allow me to do so, I guess we're up to play video game until the day ends, am I right? Can you not be an annoying tattletale who’ll tell it out for Bruce, Richard, Alfred and the Justice League if we have popcorn and ice cream for lunch?"

“Only if I can choose the flavor!" Jon got up and walked behind Damian, taking very seriously the nursing thing. After a few seconds looking at Damian's back he frowned and asked himself if he shouldn't use his X-ray vision to look at his broken ribs, but then it seemed a little invasive and Damian knew how to take care of himself. It wasn't his first broken bone, he made it clear and Jon was very aware of it. Still he was staring at Damian's body, standing in the bathroom door and thinking very far away. Damian was so, so... muscular. How hasn’t he ever noticed that until yesterday?

For a while it didn't really bother Damian, as he was brushing his teeth and combing his hair to keep it straight up as usual even if he was going to remain home. But in a point the silence was odd and, when he noticed it, Jon was kind of staring at him, which he would only stop when he was stared back.

“Uh, I'm taking a piss now, so..." He said, dragging the last word to mean he was supposed to leave or be warned that he would watch him pee; it seemed just something else to add to the weirdness in Jon's behavior. Damian was just assuming he was overly emotional about their alien experience yet, and it surely didn't mean much, but these eyes of his were surely attentive in a different way.

"Oh, sure!" Jon snapped out of it and grabbed the doorknob to close the door, going back to the bed and laying on there to wait for Damian.

Suddenly he was bothered and he couldn't tell about what and that was something weird. Maybe he was letting what was really important aside, like everything that happened yesterday. He could have died. Damian could have died, his dad too! And there he was doing absolutely nothing, making him feel a little bad. It was good to enjoy life, but it was stupid to be reckless.

“Hey, D!" Jon called loud to make himself heard. "We cannot train but maybe we can discuss about yesterday after lunch, can't we?"

Frowning, Damian flushed the toilet and washed his hands thinking of what is going on. Jon was really a mix of emotions, of wants and shoulds, and it was - like pretty much everything he does and of an annoying amount of pleonasm - seriously cute.

“Don't worry about that, Jon. I can fill you in." He walked out of the bedroom and crossed the room, sat by his couch and picked a videogame control. "After I beat your ass with any fighter you decide to choose here." A smile and a wink, and he turned the devices on.

Jon didn't have to worry about that now. He just had to be cool and distract his idle mind to keep him from wanting to push some weighs or put on his military green boots to hit Gotham's streets.

"I'm in!" Jon sat down right away, smiling brightly, and soon he had a control in his hands too, sitting beside Damian. Although he hasn’t just forgotten about what he was thinking, he knew that he was too easy to be pleased and distracted, and it amused him that he was there to supposedly be the one pleasing and distracting Damian instead.

The afternoon passed too fast, because they were clearly having fun together. Damian was remarkably docile, easy to deal with, and his competitiveness and irony made it clear that he wasn’t doped or whatsoever. His guards were real low, and he just allowed himself that time for some reason.

It was really great to spend his time with Damian like that. He remained worried about his injuries and asking him about them randomly, but mostly they laughed and talked about nothing in particular, just silly things. Then lunch indeed ended up being ice cream and popcorn and only when they already ate almost all it was that Jon decided that Damian should eat something healthier to help him getting better. Ok, he knew he was overreacting and hovering around Damian like a mother hen, but, really, anything to help him.

"I can cook dinner for you! I know you have Alfred, but it turns out that I really like to cook and I'm very good at it!"

“You do, hun?” Damian filled his mouth with popcorn and chewed in silence for a moment. He wouldn't tell he already suspected that because it was certainly creepy to keep track of the littlest things he noticed on Jon. But all he knew was what he could conclude by some sentences and things they talked about, mainly by the way Jon talked about certain meals and dishes. He never got to taste it. “I’m pretty good in cooking, myself. We should really make a nice dinner for ourselves.” Damian winked at Jon.

They walked downstairs when they were hungry again, reaching the kitchen, and Damian opened the fridge to have some ideas for a meal. He didn’t eat meat, having grown to be a vegetarian himself, but he had milk, egg and homemade cheese and dairy in general from his own production they could use.

“So... any ideas, _sous chef_?” He poked Jon with the words, implying he wouldn’t get to be in charge in there. But, even though Damian wasn’t really good in stepping out of leadership, he was really curious to see what Jon could do. So in his mind he was already getting ready to be the one to help _him_ out.

"Gosh, you're annoying!" Jon scoffed but them ended laughing. The mood was so light between them and Jon was loving it.

Jon suggested they should make a vegetarian uddon and guioza and in a certain way he was just showing off his skills to impress Damian.

When finished they ate watching a movie in the living room, more laughing than really watching something. They didn't have much more to do and the entire day was just for them, so it was nice how relaxed they were in just enjoying some time together. Still to keep Damian distracted Jon told about school and asked for help with math, and by the time they went back to Damian's room the mattress on the floor was removed and a baffled Jon began to tell Damian how he ever wonder if Alfred had some type of superpowers that they didn't know about. He threw his body on Damian's bed again and giggled.

“Don't worry, I'll not sleep here again! I just wanted to talk about something else before go to the guest room and finally leave your alone!" Jon smile lazily, turning to look at Damian. "Let's travel together!"

“First, you can stay, I don't mind." Damian said, a little too fast, feeling he was way too open with Jon that entire day. He really had to be careful; he was a stupid infatuated sucker and if he lowers the walls even someone as dense about it as Jon would end up noticing. "And-hm." He cleared his throat. "What were you thinking about? Not tired yet of being away from home beside me?" _Damian, fuck, keep it together._

Jon just giggled, taking it for a joke.

“I don't know why I still am your best friend!" he shook his head and sat down, combing his hair with his fingers. "Seriously I was thinking... In two days it will be my birthday and my parents suggested us to take a few days off, so we can go to the beach to celebrate my sweet sixteen!"

He said the last part with both hands on his own chest and trying to sound dreamy about it, but really he just wanted to spend more time with Damian.

"What do you say? Oh, and remember it will be my birthday so you have to agree with everything I say!"

Damian hated it - not because he didn’t want to travel with Jon, no, but because he had planned a birthday party for Jon in every detail. And, damn, he didn’t even really like the beach!

“I think it’s nice, I guess... any idea where to? Which beach” Damian said, wondering how the fuck to transport discreetly the cake made of ice cream (which flavor was itself birthday cake) he had already ordered. 

“Dad said your dad has a house on the beach, I'm not sure where, we have to ask. It sounds cool enough anyway, and we never went to the beach together, so..."

Jon shrugged with a smile, grabbing a pillow to hug while they talked. He wouldn't mind if Damian said no, not really. What was important to him was being with Damian on his birthday. It was kind of funny how he wasn't in the mood for a party, while Damian's presence was so necessary to make anything great.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea?" Jon asked excited, hugging the pillow tighterand honesty finding his own idea very good!

Oh, God. How to say no to that little beaming face without feeling like kicking a puppy? Truth be told, it wasn’t a bad idea at all. The fact that Jon wanted to travel with him was endearing, and he couldn’t help but smiling. Besides, it was clear then that he wasn’t suspicious of anything concerning his birthday, so it was even better to surprise him there.

It could be great!

“I do!” He said with a smile, a true excited one from wondering how he could make it even more awesome and unforgettable for Jon. “I know where it is, it’s a nice place, Tim throws some parties there a few times a year, and he isn’t even that much of a party guy. It means it’s a really cool place. I don’t like the sun very much, but we’ll make do.”

Jon giggled, letting the pillow aside and bending closer to Damian, gently wrapping his arms around Damian's shoulders to hug him.

"You're the best, Damian!" he still didn't get it where that will to hug Damian all the time came from, but it felt nice anyway. And suddenly he wanted to kiss his cheek, what made him chuckle because _that_ was weird!

Moving towards and still smiling, Jon sort of felt like he already got his present from his birthday and honestly, it was. He didn't need anything but being with the person that was so precious to him and that was a warming and amazing feeling. He took his arms off Damian and quickly got up, combing his own hair again.

"I promise it will be great! We can make a luau if the sun is too strong or something like that! Remember: you're obligated to have fun with me!"

Damian sighed looking at Jon and the sweetest, softest smile took place in his expression as his presence still hovered around him. He just wanted to wrap his arms around him and lay back for a long, long time. As Jon looked back at him, though, he snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Ugh. I’ll make an effort.” He cast a sideways smile at Jon, though. He felt remarkably close to him in that situation and that was actually so cool. He didn’t know what to do with those feelings and the urge was to run away from that, so he got up and gave his back. Walking to the bathroom, he started unbuttoning his shirt on the way. “I’m gonna take a shower now, you can wait for me or go to a guest room to do the same if you feel like before sleep. You can stay here, um, you know.” He cleared his throat and snorting at himself he walked fast to the bathroom.

“Hey, wait!" Jon walked fast to the bathroom, holding the door. "I just remembered something I had to tell you before I go!"

He was decided to leave for that day. Not that he wasn't enjoying it, but precisely the opposite. Knowing Damian, the wise thing to do should be to back off a little. He wouldn't strain all that proximity and risk bothering Damian. He needed to rest, after all.

“Before she left my mom asked me to thank you again, for everything. And she told me to remember you that you're her  hero, etcetera..." he rolled his eyes but he was smiling at the memory of his mother saying such things. He was about to leave when he came back again, smirking. "She also told me to give you a kiss for her, but we'll agree that the message is more than enough! Anyway I'm leaving. If you feel lonely come to my room!"

With a chuckle then Jon finally left room, feeling pretty happy with everything that happened in that day and hoping the next one to be equally amazing.

As for Damian, he smiled foolishly to himself during almost all the shower.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff!!! Our lovely boys!!

  
The next day, the Kents went to their new house, near the old one - the Waynes were _that_ fast. Damian didn’t know how Bruce convinced Clark of accepting it and under which terms and honestly he didn’t care. Everything was furnished, yet he could notice there was something missing. When Lois came by as well bringing a box of clutter, he started wondering why the hell would she do that to such a nicely furnished house. But as she and Clark nailed photographs she printed and framed on the wall and she brought to Jon an old baseball bat, it made sense to him.

Emotional value.

There were few things that Damian kept like that, most of them the gifts Jon gave him. But in his mind memories and feelings are intimate, not supposed to be hanging there for everyone to see. Even the necklace Jon gave him and he always wears is kept under his clothes. He started wondering if he shouldn’t try that out. And with that, he looked around when he was in Jon’s bedroom, hands in his pockets.

He had learned it wasn’t cool to give Jon expensive gifts just for the sake of it. So he had to get creative when it came to presents. Because God forbid every birthday and birthday gift of Jon not to be the best one ever, only second to the next one. Damian didn’t even put that into sense, but he had to make it awesome to feel awesome and nothing really makes him smile more than Jon’s happiness.

The Kents slept in their house already and Damian noticed he had one day to make everything work, so he barely did anything but that. It started with the painful procedure to glue his ribs back again and get rid of that stupid thing before it breaks and punctures a lung. Then the guests to the party, who would be forcefully transported to there the next day wanting it or not (they all pretty much wanted, because it was Jon and it was the beach). Then the food, the drinks, the music and the decoration - he hired people to deal with that. Only the cake he made sure to pick up himself.

Then, the gift.

He thought he wouldn’t ever walk into a 24h Wal-Mart in his life.

Everything was going great. In the morning of Jon’s birthday, he was heading to his house with a T-shirt with the kryptonian “S” on it and a big cardboard box he himself wrapped with a red bow.

He didn’t really stop himself from pushing the ringbell too many times when it was only nine a.m., with that big box in front of his chest. Screw it, he had a plan and they had a mission!

"Damian!" Clark opened the door smiling wide, holding a plate of pancakes. "We heard you coming. Here, breakfast, which I’m guessing you didn’t have!”

He offered the plate to him and then chuckled, saying that he would hold Damian's box for him first.

"I hold it for you!" Jon said coming from the kitchen, already smiling ear to ear when he saw Damian there. He held the plate and chuckled. "Dad, can we eat in my room?"

“And fill with crumbles every new, cleaned spot? Sure!" Clark shrugged, and everyone knew that he was a softie with Jon, especially on his birthday. He ruffled his son’s hair and told Damian to make himself home, throwing a dishcloth over his shoulder before going back to the kitchen.

Jon followed him with his eyes until he's gone and then looked back at Damian, feeling amused with everything.

“I‘ve just turned sixteen and he still acts like I'm eight! Anyway..." with a sigh he nodded to upstairs and they went to his room. It was simple, like the rest of his house, and he liked it, but he missed a lot a few things that were lost in the explosion. As soon as he got in, Jon turned to Damian and opened his arms to him. "It's not to receive the gift, you know?" he said with a smirk, making it pretty clear that he wanted a hug.

Smiling, Damian left the stuff on Jon’s bed beside them and turned back, stepping forward to hug him. He noticed he didn’t hold back very much as he did so, throwing himself inside Jon’s arms - then he gave him some back-slaps to make it less intimate.

It felt good there; not even bittersweet. It felt so good to have Jon with him, no matter what and however it comes, and to be so _special_ for him. It made him sigh happily.

“Happy birthday, brat!” He said beside his head, then, and ruffled his hair.

 _“Noooo_!" Jon moaned and hugged him a little tighter like a punishment. "Not a brat, c'mon!"

Giggling he released Damian and gave one step back, moving his hand up and down as if to show himself.

“Look at me! A full teenager, not a kid!" laughing suddenly he didn't know what else to do and he kind of regretted having released Damian so soon, so instinctively he reached out for his hand and stepped closer again, still smiling but a bit serious too. "Thanks for coming..."

His voice was sweet and he meant it with all his heart. It wouldn't be a complete birthday or even special at all if Damian wasn’t there to celebrate with him. He ended up wrapping his arms around his waist again and leaning his chin on his shoulder. It felt more intimate, more complete, _perfect_ , making Jon sigh and close his eyes, so damn happy.

Damian didn’t know what to do with his arms right then. Jon was so close and cozy against him, so soft, and, shit, he knew Jon could hear his heartbeats if he wanted to, and they were so fucking fast right now! Closing his eyes, Damian sighed and laid his hands on Jon’s back. He breathed in deeply the scent of herbal shampoo and cologne, and something warm that belonged to him only, trying to calm himself down.

It didn’t work. His heart was only racing more, and he cleared his throat, more back-slaps, and stepped back, disentangling from that delicious hug and feeling his throat tight already missing it.

“You should, you should open your gift!” He pointed at the box, speaking really quick. “Are-are-are you ready to travel, by the way? I’m already with twenty layers of sunscreen on!”

“Sure! All my stuff is in my backpack already!" Jon didn't notice anything different, so he still was feeling pretty happy and satisfied with everything.

He looked at the package and held it to open it. Before opening he looked up at Damian again, smiling bright to him.

“Nice tee, by the way!" Jon giggled, looking better at him, and it was so sweet of Damian to be wearing that, like saying that it was his day. He really couldn't ask for a better friend.

And finally Jon gave all his attention to the gift. It was big and he was ready to say that he shouldn't have bothered, but as soon as he pulled the lace and opened it he lost his breath. It was... Everything.

“Damian, how-?" he began, too baffled by all that stuff. Posters of his favorites films, games, and of his favorite baseball team, the Monarchs. All his stuff, very alike everything he had in his room before the explosion, like pens and comics, and a few more things that he didn’t even remember having before, but that were inside that box.

He began to take it all out and place everything carefully on his mattress, then he giggled when he noticed a few modifications Damian did. His pencil holder, he was pretty sure it was black and red before, but that new one was red, green and yellow. The same happening with his slippers and a few frames, these colors discreetly in a few places and stealing the scene in others. Robin's colors! Smiling at it he grabbed something else inside the box and laughed.

“Seriously?" he gazed at Damian, smiling, holding a Lego of Robin himself. It was too sweet! Keeping it on his hand Jon used the other to take more and more things of his gift, and he just couldn't stop smiling, only babbling things like "wow", "awesome" and "how did you-?", amazed by everything.

And in the middle of everything he found it, placed among the other things like it was nothing special, but taking Jon's breath away for the second time. In a very simple frame it was one of the most important things that Jon had ever seen. A picture of him and Damian, still kids, in their first Christmas together, playing videogame. Around the frame a few collages, a few J's and D's and S's, bats and suns and R’s, so small but clearly so carefully cropped and glued to make it nice. Damn, it took Jon by surprise and he could feel his eyes watering. It was beautiful!

“Damian..." he began but he didn't know what to say, he only wondered if it was too much to hug him again. Was it? They hugged twice already and the past few days they hugged more than ever before. Tsc, screw it! Jon giggled and got up, reaching out for his hand. "I'll hug you again, okay?" he said in warning, but already pulling him closer, laughing, so happy he was.

It caused again Damian to have trouble finding what to do with his own arms. He was already very proud of himself, but Jon’s so emotional reaction caught him off guard once more. This time, though, he wrapped them properly around Jon’s shoulders like he couldn’t resist to the third hug in a row. His hand rose to Jon’s nape and his fingertips stroked it lightly, and he buried his face on the curve of Jon’s neck.

_You deserve everything good in the world, Jon._

Damian couldn’t be this selfless to wish not be recognized as the direct cause of his happiness. He wanted to be Jon’s best-est friend in the world, because, unlike him, Jon is easy to like - easy to love. He can have any friend he wants in the world, so Damian had to give him good reasons to still stay by his side. In birthdays he had the excuse, and he had to settle how special he himself was above everyone now that he was about to take Jon to all his friends.

People were there already, and he was meant to take Jon with him. But right know he just didn’t step back. With an odd surprise he noticed it was Jon’s heartbeats, against his chest, that hammered fast and strong, powerful. Feeling weak and vulnerable with each second, though overflowing with a love he never knew how to deal, Damian felt a lump in his throat. And remained there for as long as Jon wished.

Even though Jon was giving his heart on that hug, he still was careful to not use too much strength, and with a little awkwardness he noticed that he missed one thing from that planet with a red sun: when he was without his powers, without his strength, he could truly give all of himself in that embrace, hug really tight, he would feel better his friend inside his arms.

“I- I don't even know what to say!" he giggled, grabbing Damian's T-shirt, feeling his heart overflowing. "That's- that's-"

With a laugh he moved his head to look at Damian's face and he felt like he would never stop smiling after that moment. He brought the picture to look at it again and it was amazing, just amazing.

“When did they take this picture?" Jon asked still too baffled and too amazed to care that he was even caressing the image with his fingertips. "Seriously, that's- Amazing! I'll place it on my desk. No! On my nightstand! Damn! Wait!"

Jon grabbed his phone on his desk and took a photo of the frame. Then he typed a few things and turned the phone to Damian, showing that he had set it as his screensaver.

“That's the best thing ever! Thank you so much, Damian! This is the best gift! You're the best!"

“We both know that.” Damian had one hand on his waist and the other released along his body, that cocky smile and the teasing look, to relax from all those emotions with a little bit of his snarky self. As if it wasn’t a big deal, he picked his own phone and looked at the screen as if mindlessly, typing stuff and answering the question Jon made. “Father had this picture in his database. He always has some from the holidays we spend with your family, I just had to look for some keywords. He’s very organized. I can’t craft like you, but I thought it would be nice to give it a try.”

Damian remembered that Christmas quite well, even if it’s been more than five years from then. That night he took the last videogame almost from Clark’s hand on the store to buy it and give it to Jon himself instead on Christmas, because he knew Jon wanted it too bad and he wanted to take the credit for that; he wanted to be the best memory and the best gift-giver of every Christmas and birthday.

Meanwhile, he was asking Koriand’r how were things going in the party and if they could go.

“So I’m glad you liked it, brat.” He put his phone inside his pocket, snickering, and pinched Jon’s cheek like a grandma would to a child, then tapped his face gently, all in provocation. “I’m waiting you on my bike outside. We won’t fly until we go out of town.” He gave his back and walked to the door, stopping for a moment by the door. “Hey, by the way, now that you’re sixteen I might teach you how to ride, hm? And drive. I do know that your flying ass doesn’t need it but it’s also cool. But you’ll always be riding shotgun with me, don’t you ever think the opposite!”

“You, are, so, annoying!" Jon giggled in answer, placing the photo on his nightstand. "Alright, I'll just-"

With a glance at the gifts on his bed Jon hesitated a little, then raising one brow he turned again to his friend at the door.

“Damian!" his tone was even a little annoyed actually. He grabbed the one poster and snorted. "This, again?"

In his hand he showed the Pirates of the Caribbean, the third movie, but Jon used to have the poster of the fourth, his favorite.

"I can't believe you're trying to push it to me again!" He was giggling. Damian was impossible!  
Damian released the doorknob and couldn’t help but laughing.

“Jon, come on, you don’t even like the fourth movie! You just like the mermaids! You like everything with mermaids on it! I’m impressed you had never had a crush on Kaldur or Arthur, my dear Ariel!”

"Wha- Ok, first of all that's not true!" Jon put one hand on his waist and scoffed. "Fine! I may like mermaids, but you promised to never talk about it!"

Rolling his eyes he looked at the poster and placed it back on his bed, twisting his lips, but it ended up with a smile. He would keep it, of course, there's no way he throw away anything Damian gave to him. Besides, everything in there reminded him of Damian, so he loved it all with his heart.

“I would never promise such thing, of course I will hold it against you. But I don’t tell anyone, don’t blame me that people know it! It’s not like you hide it very well, you know? You had a fucking notebook and you used to take it to school!”

Knowing Jon, he wouldn’t throw the poster away, but would find another from the fourth movie to place it near or almost in front of it with “BETTER” written on it. Damian just liked that nagging so much. Also, he was getting embarrassed about everything else there was in the gift and that worked well to divert the attention. Before they stall too much, he left the bedroom without saying anything else, to meet Clark and send him a text (because they couldn’t speak without the chance being heard).

Clark and Lois agreed in allowing the party to go on by their ways, considering that there wouldn’t be alcohol and that there were people past 21 like Richard, Wally, Artemis, Jaime and Bart (the cool adults, obviously, who would party harder than the teenagers themselves).

His parents would stop by for the Happy birthday and the cake bit (flying makes it easy), but then guaranteed they’d leave them to have their fun.

Damian was quite anxious, but apparently everything went well and it was already really cool in there, everyone having fun. He just had to take that birthday boy there at once.

By that time Jon was still smiling at himself and ready to place everything back in the box when he saw the last gift inside of it. And honestly he thanked that Damian wasn't there anymore or he would hug him one more time. In the bottom of the box there was a pillow. A very cute pillow of Robin; Robin's suit to be precise. A red square pillow imitating the suit, with buttons and the R, and it was just too cute to conceal!

Jon didn’t even dare to hold it. He knew that he would probably explode it with the strength he wanted to hug it. Instead he placed everything back in the box, wondering how beautiful and meaningful it all was! He loved his best friend a lot, and it made him giggle a lot!

Grabbing his backpack he finally went downstairs and found his father and Damian, and if he didn't throw himself inside his arms to hug him again it was just because he wanted to show his dad his phone and his new screensaver.

“Damian did it!" he said proudly, giving his phone to his dad.

“When did we take this picture?" Clark smiled but he had the same curiosity of his son, and after Jon explained what Damian told him he remained with a curious smile, nodding before giving it back to Jon. "Well, it's a very thoughtful gift, Damian! I'll not keep you guys here any longer! The beach is waiting, right? Jon, you didn't forget anything? Toothbrush?"  
As he asked he looked at Jon's backpack, pretending that he was using X-ray vision.

”No, sir! Everything is here, don't worry!"

They hugged for a long moment, Clark once more ruffled his son's hair and wished a safe trip and a safe weekend to both before they left. Then, by themselves on Damian's bike, Jon finally hugged him as an excuse to hold himself.  
"I loved the Robin. All of them!" Jon ended up saying eventually, still incapable of taking that smile off as he leaned his head on Damian’s shoulder.

“ _All_ of them?” Damian said as if he didn’t understand the sentence and deciding to go for nagging him a little more. “Dick, Jason, Tim too? There you go, having a crush on my brothers again!”

They just laughed as Damian turned the engines on and speeded the motorcycle to the freeway, Jon firmly hugging him from behind. It felt so good to be that near Jon that he barely thought about the fact that they were sort of touching each other way too lovingly if comparing to anything previous.

The beach house was away from any other surrounding beaches, and concerned that Jon could see something through the glass walls that covered one side entirely of the building, Damian didn’t fly to there. Not that they could help it with a guy with super hearing and X-ray vision, but they could be careful at least. Damian knew that Jon was too innocent to suspect anything, and they had been careful.

As they reached the front lawn, the infinity pool that surrounded the house in two of its sides shone in light blue like the sea ahead. Damian was happy with the result they managed to come up with: everything was silent and nothing felt uncanny. Yet from the moment they were close enough, surely Jon would be able to listen. So it was better off if everyone just popped up.

“Hey, don’t freak out and fry anyone, ok?” Damian said, and it was the cue for that huge ‘Happy Birthday’ in unison, catchy music following right away, friends and superhero colleagues all running to applause or hug Jon, dissolvable confetti and balloons in the air all of a sudden. It was indeed a huge wave of lively excitation and great affection. Of course - what’s not to love in Jon? Everyone had only good feelings towards him and to give to him.

So Damian stood aside, and he was really satisfied.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter this time, too many happenings!
> 
> thank you for the sweet comments, you're all lovely. Hope y'all like it!

"My God!" Jon was totally surprised, smiling to everyone and babbling because he didn't know what to say. He truly wasn't expecting a big party and thinking straight now he should have suspected of something when Damian was too quiet; he always came up with something for his birthday. So among all the hands and hugs it was natural that he was looking for Damian's eyes.

"Hey!" Tim tapped Jon’s shoulder to catch his attention. "Finally the last of the kids grew up!"

"One day it had to happen!" Jon turned to Tim and they hugged briefly, tapping each other's shoulders.

They laughed amd shared a few words, but soon Jon was looking for Damian again. Every minute he wanted more and more to hug him and never let him go.

After yelling at Garth not to turn into a dolphin inside the pool, Damian came back from round he did and stood beside the finger buffet, watching the fuzz with a smug smirk. As he turned to pick a quiche to himself, he saw the tall, slender presence walking so silently and swiftly he could have missed it.

“So you _can_ throw a nice party, hm?”

The young woman in a red summer dress looking at him had short choppy cut hair, tar black and straight, and thin eyes in angle, narrowing in the edges. Damian widened his eyes.

“Emiko! Wow! It’s been a while, hun? Didn’t know I’d find you here!”

Damian always had some kind of dumbfounding feeling towards her, but he had never called it a crush of sorts because, well, _it wasn’t._ It was just the fact that she used to make him a little nervous to stay around. She was three years older than him and he knew she was at least as good as he was in skill, so he couldn’t be caught by her being childish or behaving badly, and he had never admitted such insecurity anyway.

“Oh, I knew I wasn’t very much invited.” She leaned in and crossed her arms, scoffing. “Artemis insisted.”

“No, you were all invited. I thought _you_ were the one who wouldn’t come. You don’t look like a party girl yourself.”

“You’d be surprised, boy.” She winked, then laughed acidly, walking away, and Damian was left completely puzzled.

"Damian!" Jon showed up suddenly, smiling at him, and then turned to see Emiko going away. He knew that she was there just because he was using his super hearing to find Damian, but still it was a surprise that she was actually there. Jon never knew how to act around her, she was like six years older than him, so cool but so harsh and cold sometimes. A little like Damian to be honest, at first glance.

He overheard a little of their conversation and he had always had the impression that she was flirting with Damian, but he couldn't tell if it was for real or if she was just messing with him. Anyway Jon had more important things to think about and to do right now, like hugging Damian until he turns himself into a koala bear around his arm.

"You're impossible, you know?" he laughed, turning to Damian and placing one hand on his shoulder. "And the best friend anyone could ask! I'm sorry if I'm using all hugs from the next five years, but I have to!" giggling he pulled Damian to inside his arms (Jesus, again!) and hugged him saying "thank you" over and over beside his ear.

Damian laughed weakly, actually nervously, and now that happening in front of everyone it made him even more anxious. He couldn’t just surrender to a hug like he’s got _feelings_ , come on. It would ruin his reputation!

“Wait for me!”, they heard in the distance, then the presence was right beside them in a blur. Thin, though strong arms wrapped around them both, pressing Damian against Jon, and by the corner of his eye Damian saw the ginger hair.

Bart, that little shit.

“Happy birthday, Jon! I’m so touched with what your boyfriend did to you, specially because there’s so much free ice cream in here!”

Damian wondered whether he’d ever been this close to Jon in his life.

“Bart, no.” It was Jaime nearby, a scolding tone.

Bart released them, and readily Damian stepped away.

“He says these two words to me on a daily basis. This isn’t a way to treat your husband.”

“They’re not a couple, Bart. They’re _best friends_.” Jaime stressed, as if Bart had given away a truth the two husbands used to know for sure but couldn’t say it right to their faces.

“Uh.” In half a second, Bart released them and stood beside Jaime again. “Well, we were too, right?” He elbowed his husband. Jaime rolled his eyes.

Damian felt his face burning and if anyone pointed out he was blushing he could kill that person on spot.

“I’m glad you made it, guys, have you seen the beach? Isn't it a great place for me to dump your corpses?” The Wayne said. That made both of them laugh.

“I’m just kidding, relax! It’s sweet what you did for your friend, friends are forever!” Bart said, crossing his arms.

Jaime placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder.

“You’re a lucky birthday boy, Jon, but that’s because you deserve it! You’re a great guy with a golden heart!”

“That you are, pal!” Bart agreed. “Happy birthday, boy.”

Jon was blushing a little too, but the was too busy looking at his own feet to see Damian's reddish face.

"No, I'm not-" he began, a little shyly, because he really didn't think that he was so great or kind. He was just how he thought people should be with everyone and that wasn't a sacrifice or an effort to do daily, so he really saw himself as kind of ordinary. He wasn't like that because he was fishing compliments or taps on his back, but he knew that being good to people usually makes good people be good to you too.

"Yes, you are, son of Kal-El!" Wally and Artemis came closer, gifts in hands and smiling. "Sorry we're late. We came with Barry!" he rolled his eyes, making everyone laugh with the persistent irony.

Jon hugged all of them and received the gifts with a permanent smile on his face. A little of small talk and soon Bart yelled that everyone should go to the beach, making them all follow him. Jon laughed and put away his gifts along with the others before turning to Damian.

"I'll find a place to leave my backpack and change clothes. Do you need to change too?"

“Hm.” Damian hesitated a little because he really didn’t want to go to the beach just now - people really don’t pay attention on sun exposure recommendations, do they? It was past ten now and the sun was high. Yet, it wasn’t even that hot enough to go diving, even if it was an exceptionally warm week for that time of the year. He decided he’d settle for lying on a sun lounger under a beach umbrella not to get more burns, reading something. “I’ll change. Com’ere, I’ll show you around.”

There were four suites in that house and he told Jon to stay in the master one, like a trait, since there was a hot tub there with a stunning full view of the ocean if he wanted to use it. He left Jon there and walked out, to choose a bedroom for himself, tossing his backpack on the bed and taking his clothes off.

Once back to the outside he was wearing a white shirt with just two buttons closed, shorts, sunglasses, a Panama hat and flip-flops, in an actually matching and elegant combination that would only seem effortless in Damian indeed. It was still funny for everyone else, however, to see how he looked like he’s going to catwalk for Dolce & Gabbana summer collection while everyone was just on their swimsuits having a good time.  

As they reached the beach, he tossed the shade shelter on the sand and it started assembling itself thanks to its pop up mechanism.

He just gestured for Jon and everyone and said they were supposed to leave him the fuck alone and that they should assemble their own shelters because the first one to come sprinkling salty water on him would be kicked on the kidneys.

Classic lovely Damian.

He couldn’t care less about the things he listened about _him_. But Garth stopped beside Jon and slapped his arm playfully.

“Come on, then! You do love going swimming, right, mermaid?”

It wasn’t really piercing, but it was a scorn anyway. Damian turned and took his glasses off. Green eyes were narrow and his frown seemed way more than from the sun.

“What is it with the mocking tone? Mermaids are pretty badass. Even more than Greek myth. Selkie in Scotland, Iara in Brazil, Rusalka in Slavic folks, Mami Wata in Africans, Makakihau in Maori...”

“Nice enciclopeding, Damian. I just meant Ariel, you do know that.”

“Oh, and then it’s supposed to be funny, ass-head? Why, because it’s a woman, a silly woman? You think calling a man feminine is supposed to be offensive?”

“Relax, man, fuck! Of course not, it was just a little tease!”

“Get the fuck inside the sea already and don’t let me see you being a prick again. I hope a Finfolk abducts you.” He pointed at the ocean and just turned back to his stuff once he complied, complaining with Karen beside him about how Damian was the worst and that the only thing a nice guy like Jon deserved from him were the expensive gifts.

Unaffected, Damian resumed his matters, putting the glasses on again and proceededing to sit on the sun lounger. In that moment all Jon wanted was to go sit beside Damian, lean his head on his shoulder or just hold his hand for the rest of the day. His jaw was a little dropped and he couldn't think about anything to say, he just could picture himself doing those things.

"Jon? Ouch!" Garth punched his arm to catch his attention and he probably tried to do it too hard because he clearly ended up hurting his hand.

Jon blinked and looked at him. His first instinct was to apologize and take a look at his hand, but he was actually very bothered with the things he said about Damian, so he stopped himself and twisted his lips.

"Call it just desserts, for you to learn how to talk about my best friend!", crossing his arms Jon gave his back to him and snorted, but he wanted to smile. All things Damian said and did, it was making him so happy that he didn't know how to deal.

"It was a joke! Guys!" Karen said rolling her eyes.

"Seriously, Jon’s spending too much time with Damian. He’s sounding just like him..." Garth said, but by the way he showed his tongue afterwards and grimaced it was clear that now he was just being purposefully annoying.

"Well, then I'm just a very lucky guy, unlike you!" Jon ended up laughing and then he took his T-shirt off to go swimming. Throwing it near Damian he couldn't resist to looking at him and winking before they finally went to the ocean. They dived, played ball and laughed, but everytime Jon looked back at the beach, at Damian, and he just didn't know what to do with that will of being by his side all the time. He just wanted it more than anything, and it was a little unfair with his friends, so he was constantly reminding himself to give attention to them too, because in the end he indeed loved all of them.

Damian spent that time in there, glancing at Jon and smiling at seeing how much fun he was having, then lowering his eyes to the book again. He reads way too fast and even trying to drag it he's finished in half an hour, when he just left it aside and crossed his arms behind his head. He was slightly sweaty in an annoying way, but there was a chilly wind and a nice sea smell that he was sort of enjoying. He was there for a while watching everyone laughing and considering whether he could have fun like that as well if he went there, but it was much more probable that he'd just be annoyed with everyone and just mess their games. He wasn't for crowds.

Soon there came Rachel, floating, with big round sunglasses and a huge dark hat covering her purple hair, wearing a long robe, to check on them all and warn that Batman, Superman and Lois arrived for lunch, but that said lunch wouldn’t be ready before two hours or so from then.

Raven would probably look like the one person less suited to all those things than Damian, but there she was, while her boyfriend was in the shape of a shark or an octopus underwater, like they're still kids. She sat beside Damian and they talked a bit, but soon she got up and Damian decided for following her and checking whether everything was going alright by the house.

On his quick patrol, he found out that Rachel had been sitting beside the pool with some of the girls and - well - Emiko, and he decided to swim with them, where there wasn’t a mess of teenagers, the water isn’t salty and hella cold and it doesn’t leave the skin sticky. Jumping swiftly, he dived and remained underwater for as long as his breath allowed.

"Hi!" Jon was right there outside the pool when Damian emerged and he was smiling wide at him. Maybe he was following Damian with his eyes everytime and when he lost him for a moment he gave himself some lame excuse to look for him.

Well, it wasn't weird, right? After all, Damian really was his best friend and he was the one who organized all that party to him, so it was obvious that Jon wanted to stay around more than ever. Jon was wearing a robe, leaving it open, and his hair was wet from the quick shower he took after leaving the beach. He offered a hand to Damian, even when the pool had stairs, and giggled at Damian.

"You invited our parents!" he said with a chuckle and it was pretty clear that he loved it.

“It wasn’t like I had a choice, but they promised me they will leave after the cake.” Damian looked up and chuckled, and as he stared he thought of how goddamn handsome Jon was half-covered and wet-haired like that. It made Damian look away, embarrassed for such thoughts, but he accepted the hand, being pulled like a feather out of the pool.

He laid his hand on Jon’s back as they turned and said he was starving, so they all should have lunch.

A Bruce Wayne wearing sunglasses and a white shirt with two buttons loose met them halfway and offered a hand for Jon to shake, the other one on his shoulder, friendly. He wished him a happy birthday and said it was remarkable to see him growing into such an admirable man.

“You’ve been a big asset to your team and a great partner for my son. I’m always thankful for this advice well. He’s the best of himself when he’s with you.”

“I’m right here, Bruce, I can tell him this myself, thank you very much.” Damian hissed, crossing his arms. Bruce almost smirked and stepped back.

“I hope you boys enjoy this beach a lot. It’s an amazing place and as safe as any headquarters. No alien activity will annoy you. You two deserve this break.”

Of course that Jon ended up asking for Bruce and his parents to stay a little longer, and he would probably insist for more people to stay too, but he was a little overwhelmed.

First, he couldn't give attention to everyone like he wanted, so it kind of felt like he was ignoring them, even that's not true. Like when he cut the cake and divided the first piece in three, so he could give it to his dad, his mom and to Damian because he couldn't not give it to any of them. And yet he felt bad for not giving a piece to Bruce as well and then aunt Kara complained, even if playfully; and for a moment Jon was lost until Barry, Wally and Bart decided to help him, giving a piece to everyone in the room in the blink of an eye. Jon laughed and allowed them to take the biggest pieces that they wanted, what almost left him without his own cake. It was all nice and fun. But a few things started really bothering him.

***

Even with all that, everything so happy, it has been a tough day for Bruce, in a way he really wouldn’t admit. It was like being thrown twenty years back in the past, right in the middle of a living remembrance.

He’s never gone to that beach again. The house had worked for many purposes throughout the years, but never again as a holiday retreat for him.

Having a memory such as his made it all vivid, in bright colors, as bright as Clark’s smile. They changed everything in the furnishing and even reformed many rooms, but certain places just had the same light, the same wind, the same sight.

Like that third floor balcony he was standing right now as the night falls. The laughter and the music of the youngster came through the left side, but there he couldn’t see them, neither be seen. He was just looking at the ocean, no beach but big rocks where the waves crashed.

It was great to see how Damian and Jon seemed to be having fun, and he wondered whether that place could mean to them something like it had once meant to him.

 _Romance_ , that is.

Jon and Damian deserved a better love story for themselves.

To Clark it was equally hard to be there, but he had learned to pretend very well along the years, even in a place like that. While helping the kids to settle the luau on the beach Clark ended up in a room and another, and it was impossible not to remember. Looking at the furniture he wondered if Bruce had changed it to forget what happened there, to forget _him_.

With a sigh he closed the door of that room behind him to be alone for a moment and it was actually just sad to understand Bruce. He had never judged him, not even for a moment, and he knew that it must had be hard for him too. More than once Clark wondered if he wasn't wrong, and what could have happened if he hadn’t given up of his desire of being with Bruce by then because he knew that Bruce would never be cruel to ask him to give up something he wanted; yet nothing of that seems right. They're too different and now the time was gone.

It was just nostalgy, he knew it, but also there was a will to be with him like before. Well, ok, that place showed him he hasn’t moved on like he thought he had, and it was annoying that he was so weak when it was about Bruce. Missing the old views he decided to look further for something that remained the same and that's what led him to that balcony, barely believing when he saw Bruce there.

The landscape was so beautiful that it stole all the air of his lungs, making him wonder if he suddenly had stepped on the past, if he could approach and hug Bruce from behind, kissing his nape and watching the sunset in silence with him.

It was just when he heard the laughter outside that it brought him back to the present and he gasped, like waking up from a deep sleep, from a perfect dream.

"Bruce, sorry! I- I didn't know you would be here-"

In some way, Bruce’s nape tingled with the proximity almost as if Clark would really come in walking from behind and wrap his arms around his waist.

Then he turned to him, and his heart raced just a little bit before he regained the control to calm it down. Damn is he wasn’t as beautiful as the last time they’ve been there. Under orange, dim lights.

“It’s alright. Please, stay.” A nod, and he turned again to the ocean, leaning on the fence. He convinced himself it was for the sake of politeness, but he couldn't trick himself this much. It made him hold his breath for a short while before sighing. “The twilight in here is still breathtaking, isn’t it?”

Clark sighed and stepped closer.

"Yes, it is!", _and so is the whole situation_ , he thought. He placed both hands behind the small of his back and held his own wrist, almost like locking it.

It also was weird and Clark hated it. He missed more than anything to feel comfortable around Bruce, to be able to say and do whatever he wanted, to be himself. And then he wondered if he couldn't try it again, just a little, so he cleared his throat, unlocked his hands to hold the fence and opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it again before being able to speak.

"It's so silly, isn't it?" he finally said, looking at his own hands, and part of him regretted that he started it because he knew he wouldn't be able to stop. "Us. Here."

It made Bruce sigh once more. That was pathetic of him, every resurfacing memory, every young will, every feeling he just can’t let go. Why is it that things even changed to begin with? Why did he allow it to happen in the middle of that night, and why was he allowing it now?

“Is it?”

Was it silly? Could he ever...?

Could _they_?

“We should be able by now... To be ourselves again!" Clark was more thinking out loud, he didn't expect Bruce to understand what he was feeling right now. It's been so long and they never acted like they used to be even when they were just friends and it was a pity. They weren’t supposed to be only colleges, they supposed "...to be more."

Clark sighed and glanced at Bruce, and then he realized how dubious it could have sounded, making him blush with shame and blink nervously.

"I mean-" he began but the words didn't come. Jesus, now he ruined even the little he had with Bruce and he was already hating himself for that.

“I never meant to make it weird between us, Clark. I know that the conversation we had in my house that night was full of dubious meanings.” Bruce went straight to the point, sharp, precise words that came through his throat scratching and bleeding. “You can listen to my heartbeats, no matter how well I lie. So I can’t lie and say I don’t think back, that I don’t... want _to be more_. Yet I’ve made many mistakes in my life, but walking away wasn’t one. You had what you deserve, what you’ve always deserved: a family. Happiness. I wouldn’t dare to bring you back to this mess. So don’t worry about any of this.”

Hearing that made Clark lower his eyes once again. It wasn't fair what Bruce said and it made Clark scoff.

"So you are saying that I wasn't happy before? By your side?" Clark couldn't believe it. Was Bruce even there too or he lived those years imagining that happiness they had, that love? "How dare you, Bruce?"

Bruce snorted, like a scoff without the twist of a sneer. He looked at the horizon only.

“Don’t try playing the hero in here, too, Superman. We were as happy as a young couple can be when they’re rolling in sheets or watching sunsets. You know it had no future.” _Or no future you deserved to have_. “You fell in love again. Got married. Lived in the suburbs. Meanwhile everything in my life was a trainwreck, my sons being the only good thing happening to come out of this, out of a sheer luck I still seem to have. There’s no shame in admitting it that we parting ways was the best and only choice.”

"The only-?" Clark gasped and turned to Bruce, but he couldn't even look at his eyes right now. "I'm not trying to play the hero, but you're trying to play the victim!" he took a deep breath when he noticed that he was raising his voice a little and then he shook his head. Why did he even begin to say anything? "You should be really honest and stop making excuses, hiding behind the life we have now! It wasn’t that you wanted to give me what I deserved, you wanted me not to be a part of what _you_ wanted, _that's_ what happened!"

Clark exploded. He didn't mean that, but he was so mad that he ended up saying it anyway. And for God's sake, he didn't want to fight, so snorting and placing his hands on his waist he turned to leave, feeling bad enough for now. Bruce had shut his eyes and automatically his hand reached out for Clark’s arm, holding it. His voice came out of his throat like the air he’s been holding for twenty years.

“You’re wrong, Clark.”

The moment the blue eyes met his again, Bruce didn’t know what moved him; mainly because there wasn’t such thing for him as his brain not working, yet he couldn’t think straight right then.  He didn’t care if he would be rejected, he didn’t care if he was ruining it all - after all, they had just messed it all up again.

Who would he try to deceive, anyway? All he was waiting for was for that chance to make a mistake again.

He stepped forward, fingers fisted the T-shirt on his chest, tugging fabric.

“I’ve always wanted _you_.” He hushed, so close, and his hands slid up to his nape.

Clark thought that he was running in super speed because suddenly everything seemed to slow down around them. The fingers skimming on his nape made him shiver, and they were nose beside nose. It was more than enough to move his body, every cell trying to be closer to Bruce as he pressed their lips together again and kissed him with the desire of many years waiting.

One hand grabbed Bruce's hair  and the other held his waist while he pushed him against the wall, the precise strength he knew by heart how to use. A little groan came out of Bruce’s throat as his back hit the wall, and his mouth opened for a hungrier kiss; eagerness, thirst, desperation. The anger was a travesty for a never-ending sum of meanings, all of them resuming in how much he craved for Clark. He knew how much he missed it, yet at the same time he had no idea whatsoever. The clash, the heat, it was all happening in another world yet right there. It came from yearning, from words unsaid, from regrets and from regretting regrets.

The older grabbed dark hair and released his body against Clark, surrendering control even when his own lips were just as possessive. The sensation was like he hasn't had the time to even breathe since it all began - everything, not just there. A touch was like a shot through the veins; immediate, intense, feverish.

Tongues touching, mouths taking each other, subduing and being subdued, lips between teeth. The one moment they broke the kiss, forehead against forehead, noses pressed to each other’s faces, panting breath  anxiously shared. The world was spinning too fast and they could barely catch their breath.

“Clark...”, it came as a sigh, as a plead or a beseech as he cupped the younger’s face. Bruce just indulged. Like the weak man he had always been underneath. Clark’s touch was so hard yet so gentle, no matter how roughly they were making out right there.

His name called that way by Bruce was something that would always made Clark's knees tremble, and oh, he missed that weakness, so exclusively caused by Bruce, like so many things that he and only he could do. Clark remained with his eyes closed, hands on Bruce's back and his body against his, he couldn't dare to move one inch away, he didn't want it. But it doesn't feel right to stay either.

Fighting against that feeling, convincing himself that it was his only chance to be with the person he loved, Clark sighed and tilted his head to kiss him again, thirstier than before, needier, holding him tight inside his arms and desiring with all his heart that it stops feeling so bittersweet, to become at least a little of what they had before. Just a little, it was all he needed.

It took Bruce’s breath away and he felt overwhelmed, overpowered. It was dangerous like hell to allow such thing, but right now it was like trying to stop mid free fall, trying to break while going down a slide, trying to contain an avalanche. Pointless, and a strength he didn’t want to make.

His mouth slipped to Clark’s jaw and he bit there before starting kissing his neck. They were just as fiery as he remembered, unbelievable chemistry burning up just as visceral, intense and reckless as when they were twenty. Fuck, he just wanted to rip Clark’s clothes and have him right there in that balcony.

"Bruce..." Clark moaned his name very low, eyes closed and head tilted to allow him, to beg him for more of those kisses. Being with Bruce like that always made him feel like he had a yellow sun inside his chest and a red one above his head. Clark would never be used to it and he also would never have enough. "Bruce, I... I-"

A gasp was his only warning when Clark suddenly gave a few steps back, covering with his hand the spot where Bruce had been kissing, and looking nervous. He remained in silence for a couple of seconds and incapable of looking at Bruce he babbled something about having to go, leaving like a bullet.

Seconds later Koriand’r and Garfield came from the opposite way to which Clark left, making it clear the reason.

"Hey, Mr. Wayne!" Garfield said when he saw him. "We're looking for extra chairs, Damian said it would be around here but didn't say exactly where is _here_! Now we're kinda lost!"

"Garth!" Starfire placed one hand on Garfield's shoulder to make him stop talking and then smiled gently to Bruce. "We didn't mean to interrupt you, Mr. Wayne. Could you point us the right way?" she said calmly, feeling that maybe they were bothering Bruce in a moment that he wanted to be by himself.

Bruce very politely smiled briefly, with a nod, combing his hair back with his fingers; nothing in his exterior giving away the chaos he found himself inside. Clark had never been the smartest when it came to dealing with their relationship, and when he, Bruce, who liked to think himself as so mature and cold about it, slipped like that and surrendered, he could take for certain that the mess was made.

_Next Justice League reunion is going to be awkward._

“I’ll show you.” He said, hands holding each other behind the small of his back, and he left the balcony.

Meanwhile Clark was locked inside one of the bathrooms, backs against the door and fingertips on his lips. What now? What just happened and what else could happen? Swallowing hard he decided to splash a little of water on his face and then he took a good look on himself in the mirror.

What did he want to happen?

Snorting a little tired, he fixed his hair and clothes and leave the bathroom. He could deal with it another day, another year maybe, so he went to the party on the beach to say goodbye to his son and his friends and asked Lois to leave with him, everything before looking at Bruce again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adorable fanfic clichés!!! a bit of fluff!!! three cheers for adorable fanfic clichés and a bit of fluff!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> slightly shorter this time
> 
> hope you guys are still enjoying it

It was almost dark when they decided for a luau on the beach and started a simple veggie barbecue. Soon there was music playing loud enough to make them dance, and so it went on for a couple of hours until the moon was high. It was when Jon walked away because he didn't want to dance the slow one playing in the moment he saw Damian and Emiko dancing together.

First he couldn't keep his smile on, then he couldn't keep his eyes on them for too long. He saw that Emiko was grinning to Damian, her arms around his shoulders, and she was very, very close to him while she seemed to be whispering something that Jon pretended he didn't want to know.

He remembered the talk they had a few days ago in Damian's room and he wondered if, maybe, his friend wouldn’t decide for choosing her, being with her, kissing her.

"I need some air!" Jon sighed, saying it to Kaldur by his side and left before he says something.  _ Air _ . He was in an open beach! He didn't need air, he need everyone to go away.

Back there, Damian wasn’t sure why he was doing what he was doing, but there he was after all. It was kind of ok to dance with Emiko, for the sake of it, but it was more because she kind of insisted and when he saw she was arms around him.

"He'd say yes, you know?" Emiko hushed into Damian’s ear, and only then he noticed how far he’d been in thoughts, while thinking of nothing in particular.

“What?” He pulled his head back to look at her.

“If you asked  _ him _ to dance.” She smirked, sounding calm and confident as always.

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Damian. Jon. Everyone knows you’re into him.”

“What? Seriously, y’all suck. It’s like you people just doesn’t miss a chance to piss me off. Besides, fuck, Jon’s, Jon is a kid! He doesn’t even think of stuff like that and it’s fucked up you annoy him like this.”

She laughed quietly. 

“Your kid stopped smiling the moment he saw us together and left here like a bullet when I threw my arms around your shoulders.”

Damian glanced aside to check and saw that not only Jon really wasn’t there but people seemed to be mumbling stuff about it.

“I won’t tell anyone. And Jon’s not a boy anymore, Damian. It’s ok for you to want him.”

“Holy shit, I do not  _ want _ -“

“Besides, I’m sure you’d be the perfect and most respectful boyfriend for someone who’s already crazy enough to deal willingly with your horrible mood and annoying whims.”

“Hey!”

Chuckling, she leaned in and kissed Damian’s cheek slowly, near the corner of his mouth, then grinned and winked at him, stepping back. She turned to the group of people, who were already low in energy.

“Guys, it’s awesome in here and all, but they’re all really tired and we have just one plane to take us back to the city, uh?”

***

Jon spent the whole time sitting on the sand, watching the waves. He didn't know what happened to him and he felt bad for leaving his own party like that, but he still didn't want to go back. 

For some reason he was wondering how life would be if he were normal. Human. Raising his eyes to the sky he looked at the stars and sighed, trying to picture Krypton and the life in there. He knew that he was normal, of course, but maybe he was just too different and that's why he was feeling different now. Maybe when kryptonians turn sixteen something happens with their blood, with their heads, and that could explain why he was a little sad and a little angry. 

He laid down on the sand, still gazing at the stars, and above everything wondering if Damian was already kissing Emiko.

***

Everyone was more or less tired of partying since morning, no matter how super they could be. It was more about wanting a warm shower and being aware they wouldn’t be invited to stay the night (not that some of them didn’t hint it). So they all went to find Jon to give him a last hug.

Damian was twice as satisfied; first, the party was a success, and second, it was over, finally. He could just kick everyone into the plane and send their asses back home. The cleaning bots were on (of course he had plenty of those, it wasn’t like Alfred scrubs floors and takes the trash out in the Wayne manor) and he proceeded to do everything else the bots wouldn’t. Tim joined him in that, but he dismissed him and told him he was supposed to go to his car and leave at once.

“Don’t worry, I won’t stay here and spoil your weekend. You’ll have all the time in the world with Jon.” Tim said, piling chairs.

Damian just sighed, half-heartedly. 

“Not you, too.” 

“I’m not saying anything.”

Damian looked around, then dropped his shoulders and spoke under his teeth. 

“I get it, I get it, fuck, it’s written in neon in my forehead and only Jon can’t see it. But listen, I don’t care if he can’t see it, he will never feel the same way about me or even if he, very hypothetically, ever does, he’s my best friend. I don’t wanna, _ I can’t _ lose this. If you people start annoying us like this he’ll start getting defensive. Can you just tell this to everyone? They will do anything to piss me off, that’s fine, it’s their favorite sport, but leave Jon the fuck alone. He’s just pure, just nice, he doesn’t see anything between us with malice at all. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Tim noticed it was a rare moment Damian would open up with anyone, and specially to him. He walked closer and with a brotherly smile placed his hand on Damian’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Dami. It isn’t just people annoying you or anything at all that will get in your way. You two are forever, however it comes. That, you don’t have to worry about.”

Damian glanced at the fingers pressing on his shoulder.

“Take your fucking hand off me or I’ll rip this arm off and shove it up your ass until you’re scratching the inside of your skull.”

Tim pulled the hand back and laughed quietly at the excessively defensive posture, giving his back to leave.

“Have a great weekend, bro.”

Not far away from them, Jon was saying goodbye to the last guests (Barry with Wally and Artemis, of course), and as he watched them finally leaving he only could sigh. He was happy in almost every single way and the fact that there's something bothering him was making him angry with himself. Since he got back to the house he didn't feel quite himself, like something odd was growing inside him, but without making him sick. That feeling wasn't too strong, he could ignore it almost entirely, only remembering of it once or twice since it began, but now it was back.  He felt just annoyed, hungry for something he couldn't name, for something he had never had. 

Jon almost crawled inside unsure of what to do now, but when he heard Damian and Tim bantering he had to smile. Tim seemed to be teasing Damian like every older brother would do and it made Jon chuckle when he came close enough to see Damian's face with his regular vision.

"My favorite birthday boy!" Tim said suddenly, opening his arms as he walked to Jon, hugging him tight. Obviously trying to squeeze him, without success.

"I'm the only birthday boy of the day, Tim!" Jon giggled and allowed himself be hugged like that until he is laughing at Tim's face as he was making an absurd effort to tighten the hug.

"You'll only hurt yourself that way, Tim!" Dick showed up behind them and as Tim released him, Dick ruffled Jon's hair. "Tell me later if you liked my gift!"

"I will!" Jon was still laughing, finding it funny that he had Dick's height and still both former Robins treated him like a small kid. "Are you two staying?"

Tim coughed loud or maybe he was just laughing, hand over his face making it impossible to see which one it was. Dick only rolled his eyes, amused, and tried his best to not look at Damian right now. He was pretty sure Damian could turn them into stone with his eyes only.

"Someone has to watch over our cities while you two have your more than earned vacations!"

It made Jon smile gently. Not only because of Dick's nice words, but also because he really wanted it: he and Damian with absolutely nothing to worry about.

"Thank you two for coming! You are all very important to me!" he shrugged, smiling kind of shyly, and he didn't know what else to say.

"Aww!" Tim placed his hands over his heart and looked at Dick as someone who says  _ 'Look at how cute this precious child is!'   _ and it seemed that he was about to hug Jon again.

"Ok, enough!" Jon laughed, showing his tongue between teeth, and he was even blushing because of his best friend's older brothers were clearly intending to make him feel a little embarrassed.

“Get the fuck away from here already!” Damian came closer to his brothers, but he was laughing a little, and used a broom to playfully push them like they were the dirt he needed to sweep. “I need a shower and to get this salt and sand from the wind off my skin and hair ASAP.”

“Oh, Jon, you risk finding Damian on his beauty treatment before bed.” Dick said.

“You got fond of manicuring as well, Dick, don’t start bullshitting.” Damian said, eyebrow lifted.

“It still doesn’t make us prepared for the sight of you wearing a clay mask and slices of cucumber on your eyes, the whole diva on a SPA package!” It was Tim who answered. As he said that and they started dissing Damian for his skin and hair care routine, both already really ran away from Damian, like they’re all kids and not grown men, laughing.

Bruce came over and playfully scolded everyone - or at least as playful as Batman can get, but he was smiling softly like only his family could make him. He said goodbye to Jon and wished him happy birthday once more. Again he explained more things about the house and about where things were and how they worked, ignoring as Damian whined about how they knew it all already.

Then they left, and the deep silence that remained was even bizarre. The waves were loud in contrast to it, and so was the sound of vacuum cleaners and dishwashers, no matter how silent the devices could be. 

“So you had some fun, hm, Jonathan? Mission accomplished?” With a cocky smile and crossed arms Damian walked closer to him, near the front porch.

Probably they would never have seen it coming, but next thing Jon knew was that he threw an arm around Damian's shoulders and leaned in to kiss his hair. It happened so fast that he only realized what he did after he did it, making him laugh nervously and tap on his shoulder to try to make the moment less uncomfortable.

"I had the best time and you know it!" Jon said still laughing, pulling his arm and putting both hands in his pockets, then he wouldn’t do anything weird again. "And now ..." He started shaking his head, turning to enter the house with Damian. "I'll to have to work with the Intergalactic Federation to plan a birthday that will be  _ less  _ incredible than this one! You're playing low with me, Damian! We both know it will be impossible for me to pay back everything you do to me!"

Jon wasn't only saying all that because it was what he was thinking, he was also deflecting what he had just done and desperately trying to distract Damian with all his babbling. Then he began to tell him everything that happened, as if Damian wasn't there seeing it all too, like Garfield turning into an octopus to play ball with everyone at the same time or Bart running over the waves, splashing water on everyone until Jaime grabbed him apologizing for his stupid husband. And he went on and on until he actually forgot about what happened moments ago.

"Hey, after shower let's watch a movie! There's nothing I want more than smelling good and laying down until falling asleep!"

Damian went for a shower thinking far away and considering whether Jon was trying to test him to check whether he could make his heart race or not. That, or Jon was necessarily trying not to listen to it. Because it fucking races. Every time.

He took his shower and actually applied moisturizer later, what made him laugh at himself for what Tim and Dick said.

“Let’s see who’s got the last laugh when they’re old and wrinkled.” He muttered to himself and just got dressed. He wore black T-shirt and sweatpants as he really enjoyed to. Finally the day was over. It was fun and all, but he really didn’t like that kind of fuzz very much, and he hoped Jon knew it when it was his birthday, six months from then. 

Better still, he should tell him that.

_ How can one say “Your smile is the most precious gift you can possibly give me” without sounding like a total pathetic infatuated sucker? _

“Hey, birthday boy, can I come in? I think we should watch Pirates of the Caribbean and argue again!” He said while walking into the main room, where Jon was in. There was a huge bed and a huge TV there, so they could watch anything Jon wanted there. 

"If this is wrong, I don’t wanna be right! Jon said, lying on that bed. He was wearing a red sweater, black sweatpants and a white towel around his neck, for his wet hair, comfortable as he could be after a very long day.

He took a quick shower to give himself enough time to get downstairs and pick some party snacks, and it was all settled before Damian showed up, so all they had to do was relax or/and argue until they fall asleep.

"We have a bit of time until midnight, so in the meanwhile you have to agree with me!" Jon smiled, poking Damian only, because he knew he would never agree with him, not even under torture.

Damian indeed laughed out loud, but didn’t say anything; as the movie started, he was agreeing technically with everything Jon said: everything said as sarcastically as possible, like “of course this scene is amazing, it’s even better a Disney production than the wonderful Lion King 3”. And of course it was all so funny that none could get actually pissed off. Damian just glanced as Jon laughed his ass off, feeling cozy and great, wanting him to feel like that forever, wishing that this was the one way tears come to his eyes. 

Feeling as happy as it gets and relaxing after that day, Damian blinked slowly.

They became quieter as the hours went by, leaving the rest of the food aside, and Damian started wondering whether he shouldn’t just leave to his bedroom because he certainly would sleep.

Before he did so, he just surrendered and fell asleep soundly once more beside Jon.

Jon noticed how quiet Damian was becoming, but he wouldn't say a word about it. He really didn't mind if Damian slept in there - it's a really huge bed anyway! When he glanced at the side he couldn't hold back a smile, thinking it kind of funny that it was the third time they were sleeping on the same bed in just one week.

Without saying a word Jon laid down and pulled the blanket to cover them both, then he finally turned the TV off; whispering a good night he allowed himself to fall asleep.

In the middle of the night, Damian woke up with Jon clinging to his waist. Startled as he had learned to be, he held his wrists, but it was useless to try to disentangle when such strong arms locked him in. 

“Jon! Shit, cut it out, man!” He looked over his shoulder as Jon cuddled behind him like the bigger spoon. “Jon?” He hushed, then heard the depth of his breath.

Asleep. As a log. 

“You are a little shit. If you don’t break my spine in the middle of the night I’m lucky.” He tried pushing himself down to slide off his grip and all he got was Jon’s hand on his chest. “Come on. You’re fucking with me.” He angrily whispered. He knew that Jon hugged at night, that was why he gave him a Robin cushion after all, but now him trying to use the real one as his teddy bear was really a joke. 

Damian turned a little and giggled weakly at the face buried in his shoulder like a cute puppy, the cute puppy Jon was. Then he sighed and gave his back to him again.

He very carefully snuggled closer, kneaded his pillow and closed his eyes to sleep again.


	10. Chapter 10

Hours later Jon woke up from his very good night of sleep, stretching his feet and legs before opening his eyes, feeling so warm and cozy and fighting a little before opening his eyes.

With a very long moan he smiled sideways and nuzzled on that soft hair. Hair? Oh, Damian's hair! With a wide smile Jon caressed his arms and took a deep breath on that hair again, not finding anything weird in what he was doing. He was still very sleepy and overwhelmed with how good it feels and aware of how he wanted to remain in there for a little longer.

Damian sighed with his eyes closed and groaned in complaint. Not because of what Jon did, but exactly because he had to stop it.

“Now that you're finally fucking awake, would you mind _getting off me_ , Jonathan? Isn’t the bed big enough for you?” Rolling his shoulders, Damian said grumpily as if he had been bothered for all the time Jon was cuddling behind him, his tone the annoyed, characteristic one. “You’re heavy, shit, you’ll end up breaking my ribs.” He said as he pulled Jon’s arm away from him, not really politely. “You have a Robin cushion now to hug at night if you want, should I spray my cologne on it, too?”

Disentangling from Jon, he pulled his body back and sat down on the bed. He was moody, he didn’t even have to pretend that - but it was because he _wished_ to be all lazy and cozy in that bed with Jon instead. Not only that was silly and stupid, but starting to indulge in things such as spending time in bed was the opposite of what he should do as a trained warrior.

Jon, on the other hand, just giggled, lazily opening his eyes before sitting down.

"Oh! Good morning to you, too, Dami!" he rubbed his eyes and yawned, feeling so ready to go back to sleep as he was ready to go to the beach. He was up for anything, anyway. "I'm dying for grilled cheese and eggs. Let's have breakfast before going to the beach?"

As he got up, scratching his belly and yawning a second time, he turned to Damian before getting in the bathroom.

"The cologne idea, I like it! Been trying to steal it from you since last year, you know?"

Carefully stretching, sitting on the bed, backs to Jon, Damian frowned.

“Did you just say you want my perfume? What the fuck for?” He said loud to be heard from the bathroom, scrunching his angled brows as if it was something too absurd to consider. “You smell amazing already, uh, your cologne is great.”

_Smooth as a cactus, Damian._

Rolling his eyes at himself, he  got up all of a sudden and went on speaking, walking decidedly like he does towards the bedroom door.

“Meet you downstairs, in the kitchen. Get ready so we can leave for the beach right after.” Damian again said loud enough, now an even bossy tone, before just leaving.

Jon was acting super weird these days. Damian was crediting it all to the whole frailty issue in the red sun planet and the consequent birthday fluff, but it was killing him. He didn’t want to be reminded of how he wants romantic stuff with Jon as well. He wanted just to have a good friend time, have a laugh and stuff, and sharing a bed in the worst cliche ever wasn’t very _bro_ of them.

Well.

Spending a weekend just the two of them in a private beach wasn’t either, though.

He shouldn’t overthink, but his marvelous brain was able to work in the background with overthinking while he was doing anything else. Thing was, he had to do something about all that.

It took him more time than Jon to get ready, since he still had to apply the unguent, sunscreen and stuff. He didn’t want to get too much sun in the barely healed burns he had, so he was wearing a T-shirt he didn’t intend to take off when going to the sea.

When he left for the kitchen, he could already smell grilling cheese.

"Here, here!" Jon said as soon as Damian walked in, turning to give him a plate with everything he had been cooking. He was with an overly good mood, totally the opposite of Damian, what's so common, in fact. Of course he loved those days in which Damian was all soft and nice around him, but he loved Damian anyway.

Damian helped him cleaning up the kitchen before they went to the beach. The day was clear and nice and the sea was of an intense blue that made Jon laugh of joy and awe. After assembling their shadow shelter - of course they would share one - they sat down and waited a bit.

"Do you want help applying sunscreen on your back?" Jon offered suddenly, smiling at Damian.

“I’m good.” Damian answered too fast. “I did it already and I won’t take my tank off, I don’t want to get sunburns where I’ve already been alien burned.”

Actually, even having his whole arms and calves exposed like that again two days in a row felt weird. He didn’t like lowering his posture this much. Also, he had plenty of scars in his torso and arms and even on his legs, and at night in Gotham it was almost always cold enough to at least wear long sleeves.

He liked always being seen as either the ruthless fighter or the well-dressed guy with a mysterious vibe. Yet it was remarkably easier when it was near Jon to be casual. That, and the whole show had never really impressed Jon. He had never been amazed, scared or even annoyed; he just brushed it off. And while it disconcerted Damian, he’s always admired it secretly.

He didn’t feel like filling the silence with anything at all, but it bothered him because he wasn’t very up to go to the sea, but he would give it a shot, as said. So he got up and clapped once.

“Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

"Yeah?" Jon smiled and got up, taking off his T-shirt and tossing it anywhere. "Just a few waves and then we make a sand castle contest! Are you in? I may win!"

At same time that he was teasing he was also softening to Damian because he found it lovely that Damian was frequently up to do something to please him. And now Jon wanted so much to please Damian, to make him smile and be happy. Running to the water it was clear that Jon was much more loosen now that it was just the two of them there; and he himself in the end liked it the most when it was only them, indeed. Damian always made him feel incredible, like they could do everything together, them against the world, and it was amazing. He slowed down before the waves and turned to look at Damian, giving his back to the sea, but he kept on walking backwards as he waited for him to come closer.

"Did you know that Bart can run on the water but he can't swim? Jaime was telling us that he tried to teach him but he simply can't, or won’t!"

“Oh, my God, that moron!” Damian went on walking to the water and a wave splashed on his knees. It was really quite cold, but of course it was bearable to him. “Bart is so fucking annoying, I don’t know how Jaime still handles him!” Pointing at Jon, he walked backwards into the sea and another wave hit him by his hips and back. “Don’t you dare saying you know how to deal with annoying people or you’ll lose a friend and your tongue!”

He said, but didn’t stay for the reply. Instead, he dived inside the water, sinking entirely, to get all his body wet at once. Then he got up again, the level of the water as high as his hips when standing. He wiped his face and eyes and ran the fingers through his hair, happening to lift a few locks, disheveling from that regular slicked back look that water regularly causes.

Jon couldn't say what attracted more his eyes: if it was the grey fabric turning a little transparent with the water, revealing those muscles that just very recently Jon had discovered Damian had, if it was the water draining on his arms, his wet hair, the wet face glistening... It all was so damn gorgeous.

_Oh._

Ok, _that's_ what's kind of bothering Jon for a while. He was looking at Damian not just as his friend, but as a _guy_! When he realized it he immediately felt his cheeks burning because Damian was, well, a really good-looking guy. A freaking underwear model type of guy!

“ _What the heck?”_ He muttered to himself and tried not to stare, but suddenly it was impossible. It was an amazing scene, Damian emerging from the sea with the fabric of his tank so impossibly glued to his skin, showing even his navel, his pecks, his... nipples. And when he was convincing himself that that's the limit of staring at his friend's body he saw in the middle of his chest, under the T-shirt: a necklace. Not any necklace, Jon knew it because of the time that he had worked on that piece that he gave as a gift to Damian on their anniversary of one year fighting crime. It was a friendship necklace and Jon had one exactly like that, which he kept in his wallet. It made him melt from inside and now he simply didn't want to stop staring at him!

It took Damian a moment to notice, while he was just thinking of how the water was feeling kind of good now. But the moment their eyes cross paths, the way Jon was clearly staring at him with that dumbfounded expression would make him stare back, weirded out.

“Why are you looking at me with this stupid face?”, said an ever oh-so polite Damian Wayne.

Jon raised his eyes to his face, pointing at the necklace before allowing a smile to grow.

"I didn't know you... You still had it..."

Damian took his hand to his chest.

“Oh. You may think I should have taken it off before getting in the sea, but I took the liberty of spraying it with anti-oxidizers for it to last against constant skin contact. I got too used to it.” He started walking towards Jon faster as he spoke, then scrunched his brows as he was in front of him. “What do you mean you didn’t know I still had it? I’m always wearing it!”

 _And I’m also always wearing lots of clothes_ , he remembered, and just went “oh” again.

Now it all went heavily and cutely emotional again.

Shit.

Jon wanted to say something like " _just admit out loud you love everything I do for you_ " but it seemed wrong somehow. Instead he just covered his mouth, what wasn't disguising his smile at all, and gazed at the beautiful green eyes. Damian would kill him someday!

"Stupid!" he giggled and without thinking he raised his hand to touch Damian's face. That hand skimmed to his wet hair and then Jon was stepping closer, hugging him. "I thought you didn't like it..."

“It was the first gift someone crafted for me, thinking of me... and only you do such things.” Damian’s hands rested on bare waist and he swallowed hard as he noticed he went all soft again.

Shit. Oh, _shit_. Jon couldn’t keep on doing that to him. Damian felt _this_ close to kissing him at once and the one thing keeping him from doing so was the idea of Jon’s scared, shocked face staring at him and flying away or - worse, way worse, - if he just smiles politely, says it’s fine and forgives him, but explains how he doesn’t see him that way, that he loved him like a friend only, so they awkwardly share all sorts of horrifying weirded out moments until going home and considering everything ruined.

A total nightmare.

It crossed his mind a solution.

“Guess it meant I had a friend, more than a fight partner...” Damian said with a smirk, and stepped to the side still inside the hug to bend his leg and kick behind Jon’s knees - technique, not strength - just so that his legs lose steadiness. Then he pulled Jon’s body aside, throwing him on the water.

“...which is good because you are a total weak-ass scatterbrained partner!”

"Come. On!" Jon laughed hard, spitting water, taking his hand to his chest for a moment, but then with a quick move he hooked his fingers in one of Damian's calves and pushed him to make him fall. "Let's see who's the weak one!"

The grasp wasn't enough, however, to seize Damian in place. In an one leg half spin he leaped off easily to the side.

"Alright, you're the strong one,", he jumped towards Jon, "too bad strength isn't enough!"

One aspect that had been really fun while growing up was that he could actually hit Jon with considerable strength when they were sparring. He couldn't use all his skills, because he can turn one's strength against them and  with that he might even hurt Jon, but with everything else he could just go for it. So he locked his arm around Jon's neck in a sleeper hold while behind him.

Jon was crouched, water to their knees in that position, and Damian held him firmly from behind with that arm around his neck.

"If you didn't have your strength,"  He said it beside Jon's head, near his ear, both a threatening and teasing tone, "could you get yourself out of this with _technique_ instead?"

It was so weird to Jon that it made his knees weaken, and he was frozen inside Damian's grip. Oh, God! Why was it that suddenly he didn't know what to do? They are used to train a lot and it wasn't the first time that Damian caught him in that position, but it was the first time that he was so aware of the body behind him. He swallowed hard and lifted one hand to touch that arm on his neck, carefully, his fingertips first touching his skin gently.

He giggled at the moment of awkwardness, which turned into a sweet smile as he slowly began to turn his face to Damian, when a wave hit them. It make him laugh and quickly grab tight that arm that he was caressing, at the same time pushing their bodies backwards until they fell in the shallow water. With a precision that he learned with Damian himself, he threw one leg to the side, spinning inside the grasp without using any strength until they’re face to face. His right hand gripped Damian's left wrist.

"Technique, you say?" smiling proud of himself for having escaped without cheating, Jon raised his eyebrows provocatively and felt a hot surge of adrenaline running through his body. Not the usual adrenaline though. One he did not even know if it was this or something different, but that was warm in his chest and made him wish time to stop forever at that moment.

Lying on his back with Jon on top of him, Damian smirked. He hasn’t really tried to stop Jon from disarming him, but it would be a lie if he said that he cut Jon too much of a slack. It was all him. Jon really used technique to get rid of it and had the talent of measuring his strength while doing it because he could have easily broken Damian’s back with throwing both of them behind, and he could in a blink shatter his arm when pulling himself out of the hook (not that he would allow it, but theoretically Jon could).

“Very well, Superboy, very well.” Damian lifted himself on his forearms not to drown and kept on looking at his pretty cocky face. Next thing, his hand pushed Jon’s chin up, his legs locked around his waist, and he flipped them over on shallow water, switching their positions. “Not _Damian Wayne_ well, but very well.

Damian found himself straddling Jon’s hips, water draining from his hair, and those big blue eyes staring back at him in some sort of awe made his heart skip a beat. The water was pulling back, that way it goes the most shallow before a wave sets in.

“Hey.” Damian pulled Jon by the nape to make him seat fully, and it was one second of them hugging with Damian sitting on Jon’s lap before a wave crashed behind Jon’s back, which would have covered his head had Damian not pulled him. With the impact of the water, he released his body and allowed to be carried away from Jon, some water hitting him on his face and making him gasp, sitting on the sand and wiping his mouth.

 _What is this?_ Jon remained there, where Damian left him in the water, unaffected by the wave that practically clashed over him. _What just happened?_ His heart was beating so fast he barely could believe it, even because he couldn't understand why. It was just them playing and being silly, but suddenly it was like it was more.

"Hey." Jon repeated Damian and when the water was pulling back again he crouched, crawling until reaching Damian, going over him like a big puppy that doesn't know it is too big to fit somewhere. As he wrapped one arm over Damian's shoulder and the other around his waist, Jon kept moving until both fell in the ground again, laughing against his chest. The laughter was weak at first, but growing until he is shaking his shoulders, pretending that he would squeeze Damian inside that hug. The waves now were only touching their feet and maybe it was the sun on his back or that proximity, but Jon was feeling all his body warm and cozy, making him comfortable and very happy. "You're my best friend, Dami!" he whispered, almost like a secret, when his heart wanted to scream it to the whole world.

It was heartwarming for Damian, too - but then it was like his heart overheats and bursts, burning throughout his chest.

Damian just knew that Jon loved him.

No matter how, he did. That made him happy and the only real thing Damian feared was that he was always too close to making a wrong move because he loses his chill and his restrains near Jon way too easily. Like what happened afterwards.

“You’re my best friend, too, J.” He leaned in one hand behind his back and lifted his body a bit, free hand in his hair, and kissed the top of his head.

Holy shit.

In a next instinct, Damian rolled him over on the sand, again on top of him, astride, one hand in his chest to keep Jon lying down even though he wouldn’t have the strength to make him stay there.

“ _Ha!_  I see what you were doing there! That’s _evil,_ Kent! Using your softness as a weapon! You totally won me over! I won’t allow it!”

He laughed, half out of nervousness, and got up in a jump, pointing at Jon with narrow eyes as he walked back to the ocean to dive and forget about what he had just done.

"You're a stupid, cute thing, Damian Wayne!" Jon said only to himself, sitting on the sand before getting up to go for a dive too. There they began to throw water on each other's faces, laughing and having fun and keeping strange thoughts away from Jon's mind for a while. They kept hugging, though, while playing, like it was natural to them now, a non said agreement that Jon loved.

When they feel that it was enough of sea they walked back to the sand and sat by the shelter - Damian under it, in the shadows, to hide from the sunlight and Jon close, but insisting in allowing the sun to dry the water that wetted his body. They talked about a few silly things and Jon was insisting in keeping on talking about anything, even when the silence was pleasurable. The thing was that the silence was giving his mind room to wander, for his eyes to keep looking at Damian in a way he was very aware he didn't use to do before.

Like that one moment in which both were just enjoying only the sound of the waves clashing, and Damian was laying on his back, eyes closed, hair still wet, and Jon couldn't keep himself from looking at every line of his face. His eyebrows drawn in an unique way, the beautiful long lashes with the tiniest drops of water here and there, the perfect nose with perfect traces, the olive skin and slightly flushed because of the heat, with some discreet scars. Jon's eyes then gazed straight at his chin and neck because something was telling him to not even glance at his lips and that same something was telling him that he was acting super weird since the last day.

With a sigh he called Damian and started another conversation topic to keep his head busy. It worked pretty well for the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, let me know if the sparring scene (or any of them) was too confuse. Those are tricky. Hope you liked the chapter nevertheless!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (obs: we took the liberties of ignoring dates and canon references when we decided for their zodiac signs, relying on aspects of their personalities instead to embrace our headcanons. Feel free to comment!)

Not much later they went back the house to take a shower and make lunch, then they spent the afternoon with board games and junk food, like old friends would do. They explored the house and ended up finding a bow and arrow, so they decided to practice aim outside until it’s too dark to keep going - anything resembling training makes Damian relax considerably more. Since the night was so clear and not that chilly Jon suggested another luau, so they could roast marshmallows.

Before they could go, Damian called the Teen Titans and his brothers to check if everything was going alright (being dismissed with “we’re having a vacation from you, criminals and monsters are still worth it” and kind stuff alike). He checked everything, even the readings around the beach - Jon was all so tranquil but Damian never really lowered totally his guards, specially when it’s about protecting someone else, but even _more specially_ Jon.

Leaving his cellphone aside, then, he picked the bag of marshmallows and a guitar they had there, along with things for the fireplace, carrying it all with him. He left for the beach, stopping on a spot near enough the sea and yet out of its reach. As he waited for Jon he left the fireplace lighting itself up with a device, and crossing his legs he started trying out some chords on the guitar.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me!" Jon whined loud, halfway to there, but he was laughing at Damian. He picked a cleaned branch with marshmallows that was resting around the fire. "You play the guitar too? I thought it was just the piano and the cello and- what else have you been hiding from me?" cleaning his hands he sat closer to Damian and looked at him with eyes shining in admiration.

 _Oh, well, what else?_ Damian thought, and sighed, shrugging.

"What _don't_ I do, Jon? Come on." He said, but then just chuckled, looking at the guitar and randomly pulling some strings. "But I don't know much, been trying for a short while only. I'm just fooling around with this." Then he made up some chords, of no specific songs, and trying it all out he smiled at Jon. "Do you have a song in mind?"

"Oh, can I choose?" Jon giggled, coming a little closer to him and thinking for a second. "Save Tonight? You know? From Eagle Eyed Cherry?" he tried, then he thought that it could be too hard for someone who was just trying for a short while. Yet it was Damian and, yeah, Jon didn't know one thing he couldn't do or that he couldn't learn faster than anyone - besides how to be nicer to people, that is. "Or you can just keep on playing anything you want!"

“That was a specific one. Been thinking of that for a while?” He picked Jon’s phone to check for the chords and his stupid brain started wondering if it had something to do with the lyrics. The meanings were dubious; it meant something around enjoying the night because everything would somewhat be over in the next morning. He brushed it all off and scrolled the lyrics and chords in a moment, leaving the phone aside.

“Okay! I have an idea. While I learn this you take shells and stones and put it in this” he threw away the juice he was drinking in a closed plastic cup and gave it to him “so that we have a rattle as well.”

Of course he had already learned the song, but it was pretty quick for them to assemble some rocks and shells to make a rattle with which he could accompany the songs.

They started, a little clumsily at first, to get the rhythm right and release the voice. Damian was discreetly humming and almost hushing in the beginning of the song, as if its gentle start was also a meaning for him not to get too carried away. But it had been the perfect song for him to get cheered, because it was too quick not to. By the last chorus, he allowed his voice to come out as freely as it was supposed to, barely noticing how easily both just got along with the song, smiling and swaying along.

When the song ended they looked at each other and laughed and Jon punched without strength Damian's shoulder.

" _Oh, I don't play very well!”_ Jon make a silly squeaky voice, pretending he was Damian, rolling his eyes and even combing his hair like his. _“I just discovered a guitar like, seven days ago and now I'm playing like a pro, but I still don't play very well!"_ Then he laughed some more, softening his expression when he looked at him. "It was amazing! If you keep on being incredible at everything soon the incredible will become mediocre to you. Just saying!"

Giggling he reached for a marshmallow and silently he thanked for being super, so he wouldn't be just an average person for Damian.

Damian scoffed.

“It was barely acceptable, I let go because we are having a laugh only. I should’ve been able to strum the strings way better. Definitely lack of training, but it's no excuse." He lifted one finger to Jon as if to keep him from speaking. "A-a-a-a, don't, don't say anything, I know how awesome I am in everything I do. Don't worry."

He laughed, then so did Jon, even though he replied eventually as they were picking the sticks with the marshmallows that were roasting. Damian pulled one off, biting it and chewing the sticky candy, enjoying the sweetness. Meanwhile, he held the guitar and started new chords. A song he knew by heart; Yellow, from Coldplay. It just went naturally, and he actually liked it - it was rare to extract his likes in anything, music being one. Even after that, he might argue he wasn't really into Coldplay to begin with.

Yet, he smiled very sweetly, and maybe he had made the mistake of glancing for a fraction of a second at the sky above Jon when he started off with "look at the stars, look how they shine for you".

So he closed his eyes before looking at the sand, at the sea, at the fire, at his own hands playing the instrument.

Damn songs and their lyrics.

Damian lifted his eyes. The crushing majority of them were about romantic love anyway, there was no reason to be embarrassed. It's natural. They're just singing.

Jon immediately loved it, giggling and also looking at the stars above them. It was kind of magical, a night like that and Jon was blaming the amount of stars for his shining eyes. And speaking of shine, when he looked at Damian he saw him definitely glowing. The light of the bonfire was giving perfect shadows on the shapes of him and his skin seemed kind of pure in orange tones, and yeah, it was beautiful. Like the song itself.  
  
_Your skin_  
_Oh, yeah, your skin and bones_  
_Turn into something beautiful_  
_You know, you know I love you so_

"You know I love you so..." Jon murmured the lyrics looking directly at Damian's face and then his heart skipped a beat.

It was funny how he always knew how much he loved Damian, but never actually said that loud to anyone else neither thought about it with these specific words. When his parents someday asked if he loved Damian, Jon would promptly answer "Of course I love him! He's my best friend!". And he meant it with all his heart. But to Damian he never had the courage to say it and now he was wondering why.

He began to smile until it was almost hard to keep on singing, but he didn't care. His whole body was overflowing with an amazing feeling and he knew that Damian was the reason. Jon loved Damian since forever and he knew that their friendship was one of the good ones, it was the best and beautiful and pure and Jon could feel that it would last forever.

When the song came to the end he was even closer to Damian and grabbed the tip of his T-shirt to catch his attention.

"That was beautiful!" he said really impressed and very touched. He knew that by the way he said it probably Damian would feel embarrassed and then annoyed because he didn’t know how to handle embarrassment, so to avoid it he turned again to grab another marshmallow to himself and went on talking. "Hey, you know what's perfect for a luau? Bob Marley, yes! I'm thinking in No woman, No Cry..."

“What? This ode to marijuana, you ask me? Do you think I’m here to sing this kind of baked songs from potheads? Wanna roll a joint and light it in the fireplace, too?” Damian was exaggerating both because he couldn’t just admit at once he liked certain songs and bands and, there, that he acknowledged Bob Marley’s musical legacy; but mostly because he knew that when they bickered like that it makes Jon laugh. He just smiled at the exaggerated, unrestrained laughter of Jon’s and insisted whether he had something to tell him, if that was what he meant when he said he knew how to bake.

They bantered just a little bit while Damian was eating another pink marshmallow, and he threw his hands on the air.

“Okay, okay, okay! I might know from the guitar study some pop-ish, reggae-ish generic song only because it was your birthday and onbecause the beach might be the only appropriated environment for such. So I’ll play it to you, then.”

Damian started out another song, the easy, happy tones, and started singing _I’m yours_ , from Jason Mraz. Jon's eyes widened and he scoffed. Ok, there wasn’t limits for how amazing Damian was. It was cute, actually, and Jon easily smiled again and allowed himself be taken away with the song, singing along.

Then he thought about how beautiful Damian looked in that way: playing guitar with that cocky smile that had something special, like a secret underneath. His moves, his voice, his eyes shining, everything about Damian incredible and breathtaking. Soon enough Jon wasn't singing anymore, he was just admiring Damian. Right there Jon was completely sure that Damian only didn't have a legion of boys and girls crawling on his feet because, literally, Damian didn't care about it. Really, the only person that ever showed some interest on Damian was... Emiko.

Oh, great. Now he was remembering what happened in the party last night and, until that moment, Jon had ended up convincing himself that he was only bothered because Damian was giving more attention to another person when it was his birthday, and not because of Emiko herself. It was the first time that Jon felt so selfish about their friendship and he wasn't proud of it, but it was how he felt: if he could, he would keep Damian only to himself.

_Weird thoughts, Jonathan!_

Blinking he smiled at Damian when their eyes met and he followed the song again. The song that Damian was singing to him. If only Jon could be even closer to Damian he would! There's butterflies in his stomach and his skin was tingling in a funny way. Damian could have anyone, but he was there, with him, for him.

 _I'm yours…,_ they sang together.

Jon looked at the bright eyes and soon he was lost in them. _I'm yours._ The world spinned too fast suddenly and it was like he couldn't find anything to hold on, so he hugged himself and lowered his eyes. Idiot. How could he be so idiot? It wasn't a moment to have a crush on his best friend!

For a couple of moments Damian just went on, but his smile faded as he noticed how serious Jon had became, even kind of sulky. He finished the song, without singing the last repeating lyrics, and watched him closely.  
  
He wanted to simply ask ‘hey, what’s wrong?” but he would probably end up saying something like “hey, what’s with the stupid face, asshat?” just to deflect it, so he swallowed hard instead and thought of something else.  
  
“Was that a shooting star?” He lied, plainly, just to get Jon’s eyes to lift from the ground, and pointed ahead of him, up. “I’m not gonna make stupid wishes, if you want you can use mine.”

Leaving his guitar aside, he picked another marshmallow stick that was crusty already and then leaned back in his beach wrap, laying down on his side on the fabric he had been sitting on and leaning his head on his hand, looking at Jon and eating his candy with a smirk.

Jon swallowed hard and looked up to the sky. He was being so weird, it would probably bother Damian, so he had to pull himself together. Sighing he looked for the shooting star and even without seeing it he closed his eyes and make a wish. " _I want to be with Damian"._ First it sounded silly inside his head, but his heart wished it so naturally that he kept his eyes closed making the same wish over and over, adding somethings like " _I wish to hear him sing more", "I wish to make him smile as much as he makes me smile", "I wish to hug him more, "I wish I can dance with him like he was dancing with Emiko"._

Yeah... It kinda sounded like he really had a crush on Damian. Ok, people have silly crushes on their friends all the time, it wasn't a big thing. Right? Sighing again he grabbed a marshmallow to himself, laying in the sand beside Damian.

"I made like, five wishes! You lost your chance!" he giggled and looked at the stars, saying that they should look for another shooting star. "So you can finally get rid of my face. I know you wish for it sometimes, don't even try to deny!"

Jon was laughing, glancing at Damian, and he couldn't resist to move closer to him, like a bug on a lamp. They began to talk about silly wishes, laughing, poking each other and being themselves again for that moment.

"Then I wish the time to stop right now, so you'll be stuck with me forever!" Jon showed his tongue and his heart skipped a beat because he really wished it. Oh, he ruined the moment again. _What the heck_? Well, if it was to be honest he would be honest. "Hey, don't be mad with me or anything, neither think that I didn't like the surprise party, because I loved it, for real, but can I confess something? I prefer this, right now. Just us."

Damian swallowed hard and held his breath for a moment. Did Jon even know how it all sounds to him? If that stupid kid even knew, he could be with just the two of them for life. Not that he wouldn’t want to choke Jon sometimes, not that he wouldn’t lock himself alone in a lab for some lots of hours, that was just him. He could share a bed with him. He could share a life with him. They did, ultimately. So being there, underneath constellations with him, without a care in the world, it was certainly magical.

“That’s interesting to know.” He brushed it off as if it was no big deal again, then leaned on his back, a little closer as well, looking at the sky. “You do know I’m not a party guy myself, but even when parties suck, though, it’s more to see the love people have for you. It’s easy to love you, Jon. I was so shocked the time the Teen Titans made me that surprise party. I was sure someone had spat on my cake or that it was April’s fools. In August.” He laughed, and really didn’t even notice what he had said. He just did, like doing so without looking at Jon made it just flow without brakes. Lifting his arm, he pointed at a certain point in the sky. “Look it up, by the way, there. Between Cepheus and Ursa Minor. That’s where the red sun planet was. Our last trip just the two of us wasn’t that fun, hm? I bet at least than that you’d like your birthday party better!”

Jon laughed, but he was again looking at Damian, wondering when it was the best moment to ask him to repeat those words. _It's easy to love you, Jon._ He melted inside and felt his cheeks burning with it, and Damian had said it in such a cute way that all Jon wanted was to hug him and kiss his face.

Ok, they weren't close enough, yes, even with their shoulders and arms touching, so Jon dared a little more in sitting down just to lay again in another position; with his head on Damian's stomach.

“That one?" he pointed, more to deflect what he did, but he couldn't hold back his smile. He was happy, so happy, for God's sake! Now he wished Damian to stroke his hair instead of kicking him away. "Hey, can you find Leo and Aquarius in the sky? I can never find it by myself!"

“Leo is right there. Southwest, almost South, to Ursa Major, that upside down kite right there. Aquarius won’t appear in the  northern sky until July, which is the one month they actually appear together. In August, Leo goes out of sight as well. “ He pointed up and didn’t stroke Jon’s hair, but rest his hand on his shoulder softly. It was intimate and all, but he couldn’t do anything stupid like that so it was ok. It felt great. “Why do you ask?”

"These are our zodiac signs." Jon said looking at the stars thoughtfully and a little disappointed to be honest. "I was wondering if they were closer in the stars than we are here on the ground..."

“ _Closer_ _?_ They would _interlap_. It would be a cataclysm. Although when galaxies get close, there’s this probably stunning interlacing of their rays and stardust, pulling themselves together as they pass through.” Damian said, mindlessly, then he frowned. “That being said, horoscope, Jonathan? I’m here up to offer scientific input and you come with your pothead gibberish again?”

“Oh, my God!" Jon laughed, leaning on his forearm to look at Damian. "Look at you, Dami! You're such a Leo!" Smiling he lowered his head to lean on Damian's chest and this time he wasn't really thinking about being closer or anything, it just felt comfortable to do it. "I know you don't care but listen, you're a complete Leo! Seriously! You're ambitious, determined, a born leader, confident, a bit of an egomaniac... Sometimes you're very dramatic, explosive and I know that you love when my attention is only on you because you, my friend, would be the sun if you could. You don’t handle well losing or being wrong, but still you have a golden heart and always take care of everyone! Now tell me that I'm wrong!”

“Bullshit, Jonathan! It’s just like tarot or any kind of fortune telling, you believe what actually fits and finds a way to fit what doesn’t. Even actual “magic”” he made the quotation marks with his fingers, a mocking tone “is nothing but science that’s unexplained so far. The mambo-jambo around this is only humans adorning reality.”

They bantered a little bit and ended up laughing, still just watching the stars. Somehow even the arguing turned into talking about the universe and science; mostly actually Damian was monologuing. They still picked the guitar for more songs, until the fireplace was going dim and they ran out of marshmallows, moon high up in the sky.

***

Later, already on his bed, Jon wondered about everything. He had a soft smile on, one he didn't notice having until paying attention on how happy he was. Happy and confused, to be honest. He couldn't wish for a better birthday, for real, and yet he felt like something was missing.

Jon turned on the bed and stared at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head. What else could he want? Damian was... Damian was... Perfect. In every single way. He closed his eyes and sighed, twisting his lips when he remembered of Damian and Emiko dancing. Yes. Jon could picture himself dancing with Damian instead. He could picture his arms over Damian's shoulders, their pace gentle because of the slow song, their foreheads together, both as close as they could be…

Jon opened his eyes wide and snorted. What had he just imagined? Suddenly his mind changed everything and he could see him and Damian kissing not only in the dance, but on the beach, in the sea, after Damian finished a song or him, Jon, just bending over him to kiss him and make him shut up.

It seemed in his head as easy as it was natural, yet he was feeling his face burning because now it seemed impossible to stop thinking about all that kissing.

He rolled on the bed, moaning low to himself and covering his face. Not even two hours ago he had admitted that he may have a crush on Damian but now, kissing him? Yes, he wanted it!

"Oh, my God!" Jon whined very low. He would- Jesus! He could kiss Damian! He didn't expect that crush to evolve so fast, though, and it was kind of scary. To be honest he thought it was only because of how handsome and cool Damian looked lately.

Damian playing guitar under the moonlight and singing to him was the ultimate "make someone fall for you". Come on! Damian wasn't a jerk! He wouldn't do something like that to purposely make someone fall for him. Specially when this someone was his friend. And does he even care about romantic love like that to begin with?

“Yes, yes. We're friends, just friends! You don't fall for a friend, Jonathan!"

What the heck! Now he was _falling_ for Damian? Wasn’t it just a crush with too much of imagination?

No, it wasn't. At least didn't feel like it. Jon stared at the ceiling again and sighed deeply. He didn't know what it was, he only knew that somehow everything was different now. His heart was racing but he tried to think as clear as possible. If it was just a crush or, God, something else, he had to be sure first. Damian was his best friend, the person he cared the most in the world after his parents, and Jon couldn't just risk it just because now he was curious about kissing him.

"Ok, ok... think it straight!" Jon said to himself and began putting it into parts. First when he saw Damian not only as a friend until what he had realized now. Thinking, conflicted, arguing with himself, Jon ended up falling asleep only when it was very late.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> superbat only, jondami will be back next chapter
> 
> WARNING: NSFW - smut  
> That’s what the explicit tag stands for, folks! 
> 
> if you don’t like it, you can just skip it, it won’t compromise the comprehension of the story. I hope you do like it, though!

Another rainy middle of night in Gotham, and Bruce in his bedroom wrapping bandages around his wrists and knuckles. Nothing new so far. Through the reflection of the glass on the center table, he could see the hematoma on his skin, by his cheekbone, that would turn out to be a black eye. Not too seldom he concluded he was too old for that already, but considering that he already keeps himself away frequently from the rooftops and alleys, working on his own projects, the amount of street his face meets in random nights was adequate. A lot, but still adequate.

It’s not like he can actually abstain himself from it, after all.

Leaning back on the sofa, he left the bloody wraps aside and sighed. Lightning shone, illuminating his whole bedroom for a fraction of a second before the thunder roared loud, and he just remained there.

Someone knocked outside of the window and Clark knew that Bruce didn't have to be a genius to find out that it was him. He couldn't resist. First because he knew how bruised Bruce was and it was impossible not to worry about him, and then it had been a long day lost in thoughts for Clark to find peace in his heart before he sees Bruce again.

It was really bittersweet. He’s spent years pretending that everything was fine, that he could handle everything, for one single day it all just be too much for him.

After he practically ran away from the beach, Clark simply couldn't make his heart stop racing. Every time he closed his eyes it was like he was back there again, kissing Bruce, feeling his body, touching him, calling his name. It was driving him crazy. With a sigh he noticed that he was again losing the train of thoughts. He wasn't there to fight neither to resume what happened in the beach. He was there to, to see Bruce. To be his friend, and nothing else.

Bruce, on his turn, knew better than that, and wondered whether he wanted it or not before getting up. The probabilities were against a peaceful conclusion. That was just him and Clark. While they had the utmost respect for each other, and they could have a great time together in mundane situations like a baseball game or a dinner, when it was serious they were a trainwreck. They clash against each other, they combust and explode, whether in a fight or... well.

They were in his bedroom and he was wearing only his robe after shower.

Clark was such a moron.

He couldn’t just leave that moron in the rain, though. That was true and the most compelling excuse.

He walked to the window and opened it for the odds to play their part. The breathtaking sight of Clark’s skin glistening in dim light made him give his back right away.

“Listened to my knuckles breaking from Metropolis, Clark?”

“Something like that..." Clark tried to smile, but it just felt uncomfortable. He looked at the floor before stepping in it and suddenly he had no idea about what he was doing there. "Sorry for your carpet..."

His cape was drenched and he was wetting the floor, but he didn't want to move and make a bigger mess than he was already doing. He needed to say something and leave, yet he couldn't find the words, so he remained there in silence for a moment before looking at Bruce.

Clark couldn't refrain his thoughts when he saw Bruce like that, but then his bruises caught his attention and made him walk closer automatically.

“Your ribs. Are they broken?" Clark asked worried and narrowed his eyes, using his X-ray vision to search for broken bones.

“I’m in one piece, Clark. I can take care of myself.”

When Clark finished the scan, constating that there weren’t any fractures, he looked up, at his face, and saw the black eye, sighing. Instinctively he raised one hand to touch it and only when his fingertips touched the skin was that their eyes met. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something, but just breathed loud a few times, trying to remember what he had to do.

"Bruce, we..." with his hand in that position, index and middle finger touching under Bruce's eyes, it was too easy to allow his thumb to very softly brush over his lips. "we have to talk." Clark finally said, serious, firmly, and it was the only and last straw of sanity he had now.

“Yeah, we… we do.”

It could have been just the time between another lightning and its thunder. A flash, an electrical current, just that - whatever it took, they would realize it only later. A couple of seconds later, but late enough for the water draining in Clark’s clothes soaked Bruce’s robe. Hands found their inevitable, their only way, around each other’s body, and once more they were mouth to mouth.

The funniest thing, which wouldn’t make any of them even scratch a laugh, was that even though they were a contrast, a clash, a fight, still there wasn’t a single move of theirs that would unintentionally go the wrong way. It was by heart. Muscle memory. Every bump of limbs or teeth to lips was there because they meant it to be, consciously or not. Kissing was the catharsis of dominance, where actual strength didn’t really mean much in terms of might.

Bruce’s hesitant surrender definitely wasn’t because he was physically overpowered. He felt scattered, but resolute. Grabbing, rubbing; throat felt tight. He’s never needed Clark’s help or his goddamn pity - yet he craved for him in every other fucking way. For every sin they shared. For his envious desire, ever so selfish, as they are beseeching while crawling within the remains of a stupid broken vanity they shared. Lips were starving, then hungry, and even if they ever get to feel satisfied, they’d still be consumed by gluttony and feed on their peccancy. Too lazy to resist, subsumed in sheer rage and greed.

 _Lust_.

Lust, making them fall together on Bruce’s bed and crawl wet and violent on soft black silk.

With every hiccup Bruce would sulk in those sins, because he just couldn’t deal with the virtue.

The surroundings were blurred shadows amidst faint draining light, every touch a mirage. His ribcage expanded, skin already sensitive complaining about the ties and bends of fabric; and he’d change their motion into something more aggressive, but just as slow, only to feel Clark clash onto him heavier.

Bruce released his body on the mattress with a loud breath in, sobbing as their lips broke the kiss for a second,  Clark between his legs. Clark's lips slipped to Bruce's neck, kissing hungrily but biting softly. His fingers skimmed under the robe and he shamelessly pulled aside the fabric so he could go on with more kisses in every sight of his skin that was revealed. Clark's heart was like drums inside his chest and he could feel those same hard beats under his lips when he pressed a kiss on Bruce's chest. It had been so long that now it felt suffocating. Between moans and deep breath they kept on touching with an urge that was almost deadly.

In few moments Clark had gotten rid of the upper part his suit and tossed away Bruce's robe. In the middle of his legs Clark grabbed his thigh while he devoured his lips again, groaning loud as he waved his body gently against Bruce. Funny thing to notice now how that sanity was what Clark really wanted, what he needed.

The friction between their bodies made Bruce want to laugh, spreading his legs. He wasn’t young anymore, yet Clark _still_ managed to make him hard and ready in a moment’s notice.

He slid his hands down the bare back of Clark’s scratching all the way, the bandages on his knuckles the only piece of fabric he had left on his body. While having his neck hungrily kissed he bit Clark’s shoulder as well. It was hateful that he felt like exerting his hunger and unleashing raging violence. That was the kind of thing he does, that’s what’s come to be for him and Clark. So he was left tugging wet dark hair, knowing he could purge, burn out the filth of his desires because fuck it, Clark wouldn’t feel physical pain and their emotional one was so blurry now that they could pretend to have forgotten.

His hand traveled to between them both and he himself groaned pleased, a purr, as he slipped his fingers inside that tight clothing with a dexterity that belonged to him only and wrapped them around Clark’s cock.

"Oh, Bruce!" Clark groaned and clenched his jaw, stopping with the kisses for a moment. Yet his body kept moving, gently but eager against Bruce's hand.

Clark closed his eyes and puffed against his lover's skin and soon his lips were on him again. It was like not even one day had passed by since the last time. He kissed spots that he knew by heart, he touched the corners and shapes that made both of them tremble when reached and it all was as pleasurable as he remembered to be. Soon Clark was without all his clothes as well and the friction of both naked bodies together was intense as an earthquake.

"Bruce..." he called again with a gasp and their lips met once more. Clark had one hand grabbing Bruce's hair while the other seized his thigh, lifting his leg as a suggestion to make him enlace them both around his waist.

“ _Fuck me, Clark.”_ He hissed, licking his ear, legs around his torso. “Just do it.”

"Damn, Bruce!" every corner of Clark's body trembled with arousal listening to that hoarse voice asking such a pornographic thing.

Clark couldn't resist. No. He didn't want to resist to it, it was pointless to fight it now. That hand on Bruce’s leg skimmed up and his fingertips touched his bottom. His skin was still a little wet from the rain, so it was a little slippery in a teasing way, enough to allow Clark to rub his fingers on the crease and even gently push just the fingertip inside. The very idea of Clark inside of him made Bruce squirm and hiccup, pressing his head to the mattress, fingers and toes curling. No one else could subdue him like that, and even bottoming  was off the table in any kind of relationship. With Clark, they’ve been switchers from the start, everything just depending on their will or mood.

There, it was about surrender. About knowing Clark could crush him under his arms and under his gaze without even having to resort to powers. About actually kind of wanting him to do so. To crush him. To wreck him. To use him. To motherfucking be with him no matter the cost. And Clark knew that he should be reasonable and be gentle, but he wanted it so much, so blindly that as soon as he felt acceptance he was already fingering Bruce, while again he devoured his neck. Even so, even with that haste, he still was able to easily find Bruce's prostate, what made him grin when the body convulsed under him.

Bruce hated it that he just couldn’t help his voice when Clark touched him inside like that. Fuck, so precise. So goddamn right. Fingers grasped on the marble-like arms and the breath ended up breaking in every sigh. His own husky moans came through between thunders. It started enraging Bruce that even with all mindless fierceness Clark was still being gentle, that way he always is, when they could instead be already fucking each other to oblivion. It was just Clark, it was just obvious that this was what he would do, but fuck if that wasn't the exact thing he couldn't deal with. Tenderness, even if slight, amidst their every gesture, their every move.

He flipped them over on the bed, precision in his every move as he also pulled Clark's wrist from between their legs and pinned his hands to the mattress. His hankering gaze fulminated Clark decidedly, so that he doesn't think of where the fuck they could find lube or if he could hurt him. It was enough, and Bruce needed it, so bad, and it was a demand as blue eyes met. He slid up his hands, from the arms to shoulders and then to plain chest. Fingers dug on his pecks wishing he could leave a mark in there, anything to retaliate what that moment was doing to him, anything to make it last, carve, chisel, tattoo across their skins somewhere they could never pretend to not have happened.  

It was pitiful how much he craved for it, but he did, he did to every drop of his blood and now, covered in lust and drenched in desperation and desire, he just took his hand off of that chest where a heart was hammering to help himself out in lowering his body, and he gasped as his own weight pushed Clark inside him, slow but mercilessly - it wasn’t really painless, but fire took over until he was blinded, tossing his head back for the duration of a moan. Clark as well wanted to throw his head back and just moan loud, but he wouldn't dare not to watch Bruce lowering himself like that on his hardness, he wouldn't forgive himself if he had missed the pleasure twisting his handsome face as he pushed his body until Clark’s cock is almost all inside.

"Bruce, please... Car-careful!" Clark begged with a hiccup even knowing that Bruce wouldn't listen to him. He understood him. It had been too long to hold back, the desire was too much, suffocating and blindfolding, the biggest fight he had never wanted to win. So he let it go with Bruce.

His hands skimmed on Bruce's thighs, caressing and helping him to move. He wanted to ask if Bruce was ok, but he already knew the answer. Easily Clark sat down and embraced his torso. He moved his hips up and groaned loud, calling for Bruce. How long has it been since he felt a passion like that?

Allowing the slow motion for a little while, Bruce threw his arms around Clark's shoulders. His fingers ran through the black, short, wet hair, rocking on his knees back and forth - he allowed himself that time to settle even though he didn't want to, even though he wished to just move fast and rough, ignoring anything else. Yet he nuzzled beside Clark's head, pressing lips onto his temple while sniffing the wet scent, delivering soft, sweet moans into his ear.

That was when his throat and chest were the most painful tightening he worried about, when he wanted to pour confessing words, let those emotions overflow. His fluttering eyelids flashed open. Eyes focused on the shady headboard of the bed and he reached out for it, holding firmly. With that, he made a short, but hard movement up and then down on Clark's cock. His own wet, reddish hardness rubbed up and down on his stomach and he didn't hold back the moan as he repeated the movement, the headboard hitting the wall. Right away, against anything reasonable but with every passion he could unleash, he was riding Clark.

"Oh! Oh, Bruce!" Clark grabbed his waist and moaned loud again. It was so good, so intense. The heat of Bruce's body was like a sun to Clark and, oh, so irresistible.

Clark still wanted to devour Bruce, but it always ended up backfiring. Bruce was the one dictating everything and Clark was more than content in satisfying his wills. Soon they're following the same violent pace, even though Clark still was holding himself back a little even within the obvious limits he already knew to exist by default. His hand find the way in the middle of their bodies and he began to pumping Bruce's cock. He wanted it all from Bruce; everything he wanted to offer and give to him, Clark would accept. Even if it means that single night.

Resting his back on the mattress again, Clark yelped low and held firmly Bruce's thighs, holding him in place for a moment before pulling him in a certain way, kind of rough but with precision to hit him in the right place. He did it again and again, each time waving his hips until he is lifting Bruce with him, placing his feet on the mattress and thrusting into him faster.

"Like this?" Clark asked, puffing hard. "You want it like this, Bruce?"

Feeling his legs wobbling, Bruce remained quiet in words, but his whole body shuddering would answer whatever he didn’t want to utter. Eventually, sight blackening, those fast, tireless thrusts fucked some guttural swearing out of his throat.

Enraged by how overwhelmed he found himself, holding Clark’s hands against his body, Bruce hiccuped, too afraid of looking into the blue eyes. So, when he lowered his head and stared at him, he would be too naked. That was why he lowered his body and grinded against Clark on the mattress, grasping dark silk. His lips found the younger’s and he kissed him messily, yet never clumsily. He couldn’t stop moving, in short waves now, again pressing and rubbing his cock in rock hard belly so lecherously it was a sin itself.

“That’s how I want it, Clark.” It came hoarsely, deeply, within puffing breath, many minutes after the question was even set, then crawling on the sheets. _I want you to make me yours again._

Clark couldn't hold back a loud groan, feeling that he was so close to losing his mind. Bruce was the only one able to do it with him and he knew it would be like this every time.

One of his hands grabbed Bruce's hair and the other his waist and too easily he rolled with him on the mattress, kissing him passionately without stopping thrusting, now Bruce the one with the back pressed to the mattress, The hand on his waist slipped to his thigh, pulling and positioning him in the right way to keep going like he knew the pleasure would be bigger, and then he kept going until gently holding his cock again.

"...you" Clark gasped when he lost himself a little more, and then he swallowed hard, because Bruce didn't have to be a great detective to understand what he tried to say. "It's... It's amazing- inside of you!"

With his heart tightening a little Clark pressed his lips on Bruce's shoulder, focusing only on the pleasure again. He licked his neck and gave a soft bite on his neck, rolling his hips and caressing Bruce's wet cock. He needed only to keep going and make Bruce feel good.

Like a tingling on the edges of his body, like a chill in his chest and a fire in his loins, Bruce felt an orgasm approaching with an intensity he had forgotten it to have - and, fuck, he knew that it was just a fraction of how much they could reach. It was irresistible to wave his hips towards Clark's hand and then back to burying him into himself, but being irresistible yet he would fight against it. His hand locked around Clark's wrist and he pulled him enough so that he would get the message and release him.

It had to last a little more, yet he had to make Clark burst, melt, fucking set on fire. He had to. That had always been the best way to make him lose it. Under his yoke, inside him, all he had to do was to let go. Break the bed if he wants, the floor down to the basement, the ground itself. Fuck it. Yet he allowed them to lay on their sides on the mattress and the pace to slow down. Nose beside nose, hands on his face, one leg around his waist. The hiccupped breath gave away one sentence so hushed only Clark's super-hearing would catch.

"I missed..." _you_ "this."

It wasn't time for Clark's chest to be tightening this much, neither to feel that kind of nostalgia. His eyes glimmered at Bruce while he stopped moving for a fraction of moment and it was already too much to bear. Clark missed it too. He missed Bruce with all his heart and as much as it was true it was also unfair with everyone.

"Bruce..." Clark sighed his name and moved forwards enough to just skim his lips over Bruce's.

His eyes were closed but his heart so open, like his entire heart was open, exposing him to bare eyes. He loved Bruce. He loves Bruce! His lips opened hungrily for another kiss and Clark wish he could devour him entirely, he wanted to sink into his skin, to melt to his bones with him. He buried himself again inside Bruce, slowly and passionate, and he wanted to live in that moment forever.

 "I'm here, Bruce..." Clark rubbed his face on Bruce's and sighed again. "I'm here!" he kissed Bruce's face, his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead, hugging him gently inside a firm embrace.

Bruce clang to Clark’s body with all he’s got, breathing in gasps, moving in waves towards him - not changing depth too much as they don’t have it slippery enough for such, but short and hard, getting faster. He was so close right now, and so done with the lump in his throat. They were so powerful together, sometimes too powerful - enough to burst, to blast, to burn black. They were always blinding light, rain of fire, an ever so ready volcano. Could they ever just lit a flame instead of committing arson, could they ever be morning dew instead of a raging storm? Something able to last in peace?

Oblivious to possible answers and, again, so fucking close and so fucking done with every sorrow left behind, he moved a bit faster, angrier as he knows how, seizing his own reddened, wet cock between their bodies.

“Come with me, Clark...” Bruce used a line he knew how to use to tease him a lot. Biting his ear, he delivered another groan - both a plead and an order. “Come _inside_ me.”

Could Clark ever resist to any demand made by Bruce? Could him ever be able to ignore anything he asked in that guttural voice, whispered in his ear like that? He could only moan loud and roll his eyes and move his hips against him, one hand firm on his ass cheek, the other on his nape and their bodies almost bursting in the same pace, with the same powerful desire. Every thrust fucked loud moans out of Clark's lips when they weren't busy kissing.

Clark seized Bruce inside his arms the best he could without losing control of his strength even when he was allowing his body to just go. He moved faster as the orgasm approached, like his body was programed to please Bruce. He buried his face on his neck while he thrusted deep and fast, making the bed shake and creak.

"Bruce! Oh, my God, Bruce!" his name was a cry on Clark's mouth when he reached the highest peak, waving his body to keep on squeezing Bruce's cock between their stomachs and everything felt so damn good and delicious that Clark could collapse. His lips sought for Bruce's again, thirsty, needy, muffling their moans in a seemingly sloppy kiss that made Clark's head spin - when actually it was his body rolling with his on the bed again, as he was fucking Bruce against the mattress and coming hard.

As violently Bruce allowed himself to come as well, like one lets go of the branch and surrenders to the stream of the river, where orgasm was a crashing waterfall. His hands were only on the marble chest of Clark’s, yet the pearly white drops and lines were drawn on his own belly, hands-free. He muttered “fuck” lots of times in a row and the whole situation blew his mind away. The bed creaking and hitting the wall, the sweat, the hoarse moans, Clark fucking his brains out; lust, desire, fire and, most of all, pleasure. Blinding, skyrocketing, unbelievable pleasure that even quiet Bruce was vocalizing non-stop, for his voice couldn’t even be kept inside his self, through panted, desperate breath.

They grinded and crawled and craved together and against each other, to that peak, and then slowly losing the pace. They stopped moaning, the bed stopped creaking.

Until the sound of their puffing breath was all that’s left.

Clark never could understand how, of all things, Bruce was the only one capable of taking his breath away like that. He didn't know that his own body was capable of many things until Bruce arrived in his life and made a mess of everything he thought to have control over. Like right now, with their bodies still and their breaths without pace, he didn't know he was able to make time freeze just looking at Bruce's face.

Clark tilted his head and pressed a soft and long kiss on Bruce's cheek while he allowed him to take time to breathe. His lips slipped to his jaw, then to his neck as he slowly pulled himself out of him and gently moved to the side to take his weight off him, but he still kept their legs enlaced. So as he leaned his head on his chest, he still kept one arm wrapped around his waist in a silent plea to stay a little more with him. And, honestly, if Bruce tried to kick him out he would pretend he was sleeping as heavily as someone could sleep.

Eyes closed within a long inhale, Bruce's hands dropped to Clark’s shoulders and rest on the elegant sculpture of his trapezium. His breath was pushed out forcefully after an unknown amount of seconds holding it back. The heart hammered in his chest against the pressure from Clark, as if there wasn't enough blood to ever fully flow in his body; as if he was always lacking, always out of oxygen, always a sigh away from breathing enough.

The breath that caressed his sweaty skin, instead, had an entrancing deep sound; something that had already soothed him to sleep before, in the best of his nights.

It didn’t matter how iridescent it could burn now, how open was the wound, how tempting it was the surrender and how excruciating it would be the fight. Wasted metaphors lost themselves in time while Bruce wandered back as well to moments alike. With the lecherous, sexual scent of them and the sticky warmth of his body taking over his senses, the sharpness of the memories was uncanny. From the hug under the sheets or the shield in the middle of the battle. So, it all fell apart inside Bruce gracefully, the excuses, the answers, the hesitations, the explanations, all there was between the why and the because.

Words would fail in that complexity where feeling was always one step behind or ahead. The weariness that drove Bruce to that giving up point, to that surrender to the simplicity of a borrowed, manufactured humanity. Without resistance then he'd give in the rest of his staggering fight and the convulsing meanings, to willingly let his reasons fall undone as a pile of puzzle pieces on Clark’s feet.

Bruce closed his eyes to sleep and faked it until he made it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to our mutually pining fluffy bois

When Jon woke up next day, he carefully got out of his room and looked for Damian. In the end he hadn’t arrived to any conclusion about his feelings and now he was embarrassed in only seeing Damian. It looked like he wasn’t in the house, however, and Jon confirmes it when he checked his phone and through a text he’d informed he’d gone for a jog. It kind of made Jon feel a little less nervous. 

With a mug of coffee in one hand he went to the porch to wait for Damian, and sipping his beverage he looked at the horizon. Yeah, probably last night he was just too touched or something. All those thoughts were silly and  surely he wasn't even thinking about stupid things like kissing or stroking his hair or anything.

Before dawn, Damian had indeed gone for what he meant to be a tree-hour, high-performance jog, so that he can both feel better about being on vacation and also to keep his mind busy. It wasn’t supposed to end, but he spotted a small movement in the bushes near the beach, where there was a trash can.

Next thing, Damian was racing back to the house with a thin stray puppy in his arms. Just like that. The small animal was full of ticks and with a couple of scabies, its fur all tangled and dirty, but seemed alert and not under immediate risk. It took Damian’s special talent with animals to approach him, and the only thing he did before just holding it was giving him water from his water bottle. 

Hugging the dog to his chest without any restraint, he saw Jon in the porch.

“Hey, Jon!” He’s spoke loud, but without yelling not to startle the dog, knowing Jon could hear if he wanted. “Go prepare this kid here rice from the party with an egg, would you? We have a baby to take care of!”

Jon almost spat his coffee, looking at Damian coming with a dog in his arms.

"Holy... is it still my birthday?" he looked amazed as he walked closer to receive them, his eyes on the puppy all the time.

Jon stroked its head gently, saying "hi" in a low tone, and just then he looked again at Damian.

"Where did you find it? Let's get inside, I'll make the rice! It's so cute, Dami!" he began to babble, forgetting about everything that was bothering him until that moment.

“I was in my morning jog until I reached the road, near the next city. He or she was by a garbage can. It’s so worn out, the poor thing, look at this skin!” Damian pouted, worried without restraint, in a way he didn’t allow with people, so it never shows. He pet the dog’s head and it started trying to lick his fingers. Damian just allowed, no matter how bad it smelled. “Can you take some food upstairs? I’ll cut this tangled dirty fur and use some light medicine. It needs a shower to get rid of these ticks and fleas. Right, little cute thing?” He rubbed the dog’s head, behind its ear, smiling. “Meet me in my bathroom, kay?” He said to Jon and gave his back, walking away talking sillily to the puppy in his arms.

_ Ooooh, boy!  _ Jon watched Damian leaving and thanked that he wasn't paying attention on him because he knew he was blushing. It was so cute, Jesus Christ! Damian was so freaking cute! Jon covered his face again and turned to the kitchen to do what Damian had asked him. Fine! He had a big crush on him! That's it and he couldn't do anything about it besides keeping it to himself.

Breathing slowly to keep his heart calm Jon went upstairs with a small bowl with rice and clean water and followed the sound until reaching the bathroom. He could handle this! He could handle anything!

"Hey, Dami! Do you want me to go to the city and buy medicine or something-" Jon just glimpsed at Damian sitting on the floor with the puppy between his legs and it was enough to make him clench his teeth.  _ I can handle this!  _ He thought with all his strength, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

Mindlessly, Damian was caressing the dog’s ear and smiled openly at Jon while reaching out for the bowl of food, leaving the scissors aside.

“I’ll want it later! He’ll need medicine after a good warm bath we give him. It’s a he!” He lowered his eyes to pay attention on the dog again, which started eating like crazy, making Damian’s heart clutch in his chest at the same time as it was happy he had the opportunity of finding him. Jon loved animals as much as he did and that was something else he admired on him that much; so they could totally offer love and care for that little creature.

Again mindlessly with another glance he tapped beside himself for Jon to sit by his side.

Jon sighed and biting his smile he stepped closer to sit down beside Damian. The puppy then looked at him and made an adorable thing, wagging a lot his tail as he swallowed, jumping closer to Jon to welcome him but then lowering his head to keep on eating, repeating it for three times, wanting do everything at once.

"Hey! Calm down! You can eat now and later we play, ok? That's ok for you? That's ok?" Jon petted its head gently and as he began to talk normally he now was doing silly voices, lowering his body to be closer to the puppy. "He's so young! I can't believe someone had the guts to abandon him! People can be so mean! But we'll keep it, right?"

“Unless we find a very loving, willing owner, sure we will. Damn, if I found whoever could’ve abandoned him like that I’d rip this person’s spine. Humans suck way too often. But, we’ll, I’ve been missing a dog, actually. Heard that, little boy?” Damian scratched the dog’s back. “It seems you’ve got two daddies now!”

Not putting too much effort on the meanings of what he said, he petted again an anxiously sniffing dog before an empty bowl, telling him that he couldn’t eat more right now because it might be too much for the while, as if he was able to understand. He placed the dog firmly on his legs, picked the tweezers and the rubbing alcohol he separated from his own necessaire and started removing the rest of the ticks from the small body, all the care and actual gentleness in the world. Then, he proceed to the warm bath they had prepared on the large sink.

Jon tried not to be drooling over Damian or anything, but a few minutes later when both were fighting to give a decent bath on the puppy  on the sink with warm water without using strength, Jon raised his eyes to Damian with his T-shirt soaked and foam on his face, laughing while he talked to the puppy, and, Jesus, it was like feeling an arrow from the cupid through his heart. He was blushing again, he knew it, and he couldn't think of a good excuse in case Damian noticed it, but gladly he was too busy taking care of the puppy. Jon was melted inside with the adorable and gentle way that Damian was holding it, allowing it to lick him all over even while saying  _ Stop it!  _ and laughing so purely! When Damian called himself daddy again Jon couldn't refrain his thoughts.

_ Please be the daddy of all of my adopted kids!  _

Yeah, that kind of thought was very...  _ clarifying _ . Jon's heart beated faster and faster and while the helped with the puppy and their fingers touched he felt like his heart was going to explode. He pulled his hand back quickly and turned saying that he would grab a towel. He couldn't act this weird, Damian would notice it! But how on Earth could he control his heart?

“Hey, Jon.” Damian said suddenly and found it funny that it startled Jon, but he only assumed Jon was distracted, not suspecting of anything at all. He was wrapping the now clean dog on the towel and hugging him to his chest. “I was going to say we need some medicine for him. I’m as good as any veterinarian out there to do these so we can do it in here or back home. I’d just need you to fly to the city and buy certain things as we said. It’s your call, after all we’ll have to go back home tonight anyway.”

"Yeah! Yes! Sure! I'm going! Right now!" Jon was freaking out, he was so nervous that he was sure that Damian had noticed it and that was why he was telling him to go. _Sigh_. Fine, he knew it wasn't true and actually he was pretty glad for leaving for now.

Quickly he went to his room to change his clothes and in a few seconds he was flying to the closest town. Leaving the pet shop Jon realized that he was with twice the bags he needed. He ended up buying not only the things they needed for now, but also little clothes and collars, bowls and chewing toys. What was him? An enthusiastic new dad?

"We haven’t even kissed and we are daddies!" Jon told it to himself while crossing the city to find a hidden place to fly back to the beach house, but then he noticed what it really meant. He was wishing to kiss Damian, he kind of expected it to happen, even when it seemed impossible.

_ Kissing Damian, _ he thought as he arrived, sighing heavily. It would never happen! He knew that to Damian he was nothing but a kid, naive and silly, and it had never bothered him before the way it was bothering him now. He announced himself to Damian and went upstairs again with the four bags of shopping, feeling a little uncomfortable. He was sixteen now, he wasn't a kid and Damian wasn't even that much older than he was. And now he was mad and it was totally pointless. Even if Damian understood those things it wouldn't mean that he would want to kiss him too. And even if they ended up kissing, then what?

Then what?

Damian was on the balcony, drying the dog under the sunlight, and laughed when he saw the amount of shopping Jon did in less than half an hour.

“You moron. You shouldn’t have spent this much money of yours, I’ll repay you.” He said, impolite as he can be, but laughing. Playfully he just went on with the parenting thing. “You bought all our baby’s layette without me?”

The dog was freed from his hands and he right away ran to Jon, wagging his tail, curious. 

“Little shit, don’t you dare loving Jon more than me just because you two are cute puppies.” He said while getting up, which was all drama because clearly the excitement of the dog in seeing Damian approaching was the same. “Did they have everything there?”

He reached out for the bag from the vet and just checked everything, not noticing anything uncommon in Jon. As he lifted the syringe, he mumbled  _ now he definitely won’t love me very much. _

_ Let me love you instead!  _ Jon thought and rolled his eyes. Oh, he had no limits! Damian was luckily too distracted with the puppy to notice how he was blushing and babbling since he called him a cute puppy too.

Then it hit him. No, he didn't actually think that Jon was cute, he was saying that he was a baby and Jon suddenly hated it. 

With a sigh he placed the rest of the shopping on the floor and held the puppy when he came to sniff it curiously.

"It is for you, no need to be so curious! Hey, D., do I have to hold him in an specific position?" Jon asked already holding the puppy against his chest. The dog took advantage and liked his neck, making Jon giggle. "Stop it! It tickles! Listen..." he turned to Damian again, smiling but a little nervous yet. "I was thinking... We should call him DJ. Like, D and J. You and me! It's our first kid after all!" Jon shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but then he blushed a little because he said it.  _ First kid _ , seriously? "I should study to be a vet and we should rescue more animals together, you know what I mean? Let's build a sanctuary for all kind of animals and adopt all of them!"

“You do know I kind of have one, right? But I think it would be awesome to run one with you.” Damian laughed and winked at Jon, noticing that he looked down as if uncomfortable. Shit.  _ Shit _ . Could Jon have noticed something on his behavior and now he’s weirded out, trying to brush that off?  _ Ok, calm down, Damian, it was just something random. _  “I mean, I’d totally be the boss there but if you really want to work there I’d pay you a decent salary.” He’s lowered his head to the dog to apply some medicine, a little bit uncomfortable with how close he was to Jon now, just a couple of inches away. “If you actually have the guts to be a vet. Do you? Wanna apply the injection if I tell you how to?”

Jon twisted the corner of his lips, not because of the question, but because he felt a little lost with that proximity and kind of was waiting for something to happen, but then he blinked noticing that Damian still was waiting for the answer.

"Ahn... I guess!" he shrugged and swallowed hard, diverting his eyes. "But you do it now. This guy needs a pro first! You... You can teach me another time!" Jon sighed to cut the babbling and speaking a little slower. "I like animals and, honestly, nothing can be this scary since we kind of saw a little of everything in our lives. So if it's to help I think it would be much easier, right? Besides, how amazing will it be that I don't need to wait for an X-ray to help fixing a broken bone or finding something wrong? I would make a great vet!"

Jon went on babbling and the tension between them eased a lot. Thinking now he had never talked about his future career with anyone. It was like everyone was expecting him to follow his parents steps and become a journalist, but he didn't feel like it was his true calling, and since no one was making any pressure on him to choose something he never really thought about it. 

With Damian somehow it was easy to talk about everything; his dreams, his fears, his silly thoughts. Even with everything on his personality he never felt like Damian would make fun of him. He was always there for him and it made Jon feel invincible as much as it was making his knees falter now.

They talked a little about future and dreams and somehow it was almost settled that Damian would build them a vet clinic. Meanwhile, the dog was medicated and everything, still loving them both even after yelping and crying with the needle underneath his skin. It went a little easier between them and they ended up deciding they should go home a bit earlier: they could go to that beach house way more frequently now, it was just a matter of flying to there. 

“Ok, DJ,” Damian pet his head and scratched behind his ear “now you stay with dad two now. I desperately need a shower, you can take yours as well, then we can go. If you feel like we can grab a burger for lunch somewhere in the way.” Damian said, then stepped back and took his dirty T-shirt off to go to the bathroom.

"Yeah! Burger and fries sound good!"  _ Please, please Damian! Just go away!  _ Jon was fighting not to stare at Damian's body but it was impossible, so he could only wish him to leave at once.

Why was suddenly everything so hard around Damian? He couldn't control himself and it was ridiculous. Clearing his throat Jon lowered his eyes to the puppy, just then seeing him biting his finger in a playful way.

"Hey, don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!" he said low and discreetly checked out Damian's bare torso before he leaves.

With a painful sigh Jon released his body to lay on the floor, distractedly allowing DJ to play with his fingers. He really needed to learn how to deal with his new feelings around Damian or he could end up losing his friend.

"What do I do, little buddy?" Jon asked low when Dj came to lick his face. "I've never fallen in love before, what do I do?" the dog made a cute noise and cuddled beside Jon's head, still wagging his tail, but looking a little tired now.

Damian was, overall, satisfied with everything. The weekend was great, they had lots of fun, they had a furry buddy now and he could go back to work now - perks of being a workaholic, apparently he was missing some action. That could be as well, however, because of the one part of it all that was concerning him: whether Jon started suspecting of something about him. He wanted to just go punch someone who deserved it in that ever so violent night of Gotham and stop thinking stupid stuff. Too much interpersonal interaction, which, no matter how fun, he sucked at.

Shower taken and it all ready, Damian packed his backpack and searched for Jon again, so that they could leave.

When Damian came, Jon got up and ran for a shower. He probably would never know that under the shower he had practically the same thoughts that Damian had before. He feared that Damian had figured out why he was suddenly acting so weird and he wished that being back to their routine could make it easier, that he could stop thinking stupid stuff. And it was funny to notice that despite of his desire of things not to change Jon still craved with all his heart to be more to Damian.

With a deep and long sigh Jon finished his shower and quickly packed everything. He could hear Damian and the puppy playing while he went downstairs and he was already smiling as he reached the porch. When he looked at Damian he was 100% sure that, yes, he was indeed in love with him.

"Let's go home, boss!" Jon joked, stepping a little closer. His parents had taken all his presents in the day before, so he just had his backpack and now DJ’s stuff. "C'mon, boy! Leave your grumpy dad and come with your fun dad!" Jon tapped his thigh to call DJ and laughed, holding him against his chest again. He had to try one thing before they leave, so he would know it for real. Using all his courage Jon gave one larger step closer to Damian and kissed his hair in the same way he did yesterday.

No, it wasn't the same thing. Now he felt a sparkle that he hasn’t realized last time. And he felt so damn embarrassed that he had no idea how he wasn't as red as his cape.

"You sure you took a decent shower? Your hair still smells salty, that's gross, Dami!" Jon said quickly, walking to the garage. He began to talk with DJ, saying that he smelled way better than his daddy and honest he thought that he would have a heart attack if he didn't find a way to make his heart slow down. He was deeply in love with Damian and it was crushing his chest.

For a split second Damian was worried he could be smelling bad indeed, but then he frowned, and probably only being that outraged would make him walk past the fact that he fucking kissed his hair again. Better still, being angry was always easier, he'd known that for years.

So.

That fucking brat! How dare him?

"It's your stupid nose, that's for certain!" Damian followed, turning his flying motorcycle on with the control. "You wouldn't know how exfoliating with bath salts smells like even if the world saving depended on it! It took you up to fourteen to figure out how conditioner works!" He started yelling at Jon and it only worked to make him laugh. Damian hated it that he still found his laughter that cute (and that damn boy had a puppy on his lap, it was such a low blow) but it had still pissed him that he couldn't bother Jon not in a million years. He climbed on his bike and it hovered a bit away from the floor. 

"Will you come with me or you'll go flying?" He said with his annoyed tone of when he has to be reasonable even when he’s still pissed. "And give me my son here, I'll think of rescheduling your restricted visitation!"

Jon actually laughed, thinking it cute the way Damian went on babbling angrily with him, trying to reach for DJ. Yeah, Damian was beautiful no matter what and Jon was doomed to be in love with a dramatic guy.

"Dream about it, Wayne! We're co-parenting here, silly! And I'm going with you only because it will be safer to baby DJ here! Give us space!" Jon also knew how to be bossy when he wanted and before Damian says something he was already straddling the bike to sit behind him. "D, let's go to my house first. We can order food from there..." as he spoke he turned his backpack and opened it in a way to fit the puppy's body inside, leaving his head out. "Better!" he said suddenly, finding it a bad idea to be in his house with Damian. "Let's go to your house!" It wasn’t much better. Damn.

“Okay. First, let me. ” He turned to Jon and giggled at everything he did to make the dog safe. He mumbled ‘excuse me’ and fastened the dog and the backpack with a body leash to make it all safe without making the dog desperate, a little show off on how he’s got everything covered,  _ always _ . 

They flew over to Gotham, and Damian was thankful for that bickering. He wasn't sure if it was him or what, but things felt a little bit odd between them when they weren't arguing or playing with the dog in that afternoon, like some necessity of filling up silence, what they didn’t use to do since...a long time.  It was, however, still very pleasant, mainly as they were introducing the house to DJ. 

When it was the evening, Damian decided for taking Jon home, even though he could totally fly by himself and get there even faster. The excuse, this time, was again taking DJ home - he would spend that week or so with Jon, in their new house. Living farther away was always better for the whole flying and laser burning stuff thing the Kriptonians had not to be noticed by neighbors, so the house was even more remote than their last one. It was better a place for the dog to run and everything than Lois’ apartment downtown. Clark was softer as well in accepting dogs, and apparently Jon had already texted his father about it.

When it was time to leave, it made Damian hesitate.

“Hey. It was... it was nice. We should do it more often.” Damian didn’t get out of the bike, afraid that he wouldn’t know what to do with his hands. They could get sentimental and all and he shouldn’t allow it because he would definitely say or do something stupid. “I like spending time with you,” he cleared his throat and scratched his nape “when you’re not just annoying the shit out of me in a mission or things alike. See you Tuesday on the HQ, right? ‘Night!”

He just left, without allowing Jon to answer, and he clenched his teeth, only not swearing at himself because Jon might still hear it. He definitely needed to put on his uniform and go do something he was actually good at.

"Wait-" Jon almost took impulse, but he didn't have the guts to follow Damian. He snorted and just kept looking as he left, leaving him there with a full heart in a tight chest. Did Damian have idea of what he was doing with him saying these things?

He wished he could have kissed Damian again so he would know that it wasn't a magic beach only, even when he obviously didn't need the confirmation. Dropping his shoulders Jon grabbed everything and looked at DJ.

"Let's go meet grampa!" the puppy growled excited and Jon giggled. Guiding him on a leash Jon turned and saw his father waiting for him by the front door.

"The prodigal son..."

"C'mon, dad! It was one day! One!" Jon laughed but he didn't hesitate before hugging his dad like it has been a year since they last saw each other.

"I'm allowed to miss you, okay? Let's go in, I made a cake! And for you, little one," Clark lowered his eyes to the dog, smiling. "I bought wet food!"

They laughed talking about spoiling DJ and for a moment everything was in peace in Jon's mind and heart. Funny thing is that both father and son were noticing something a little odd about each other, but didn’t mention.

After eating cake they talked about the presents and the party until late night. Jon didn't have to insist too much for Clark to allow him to let DJ sleep in his room in that night and it was a funny surprise to see that Clark had bought a small bed to the new member of the family.

Everything was great again, normal again. Until Jon laid his head on the pillow and thought about Damian again. DJ yelped and barked and Jon put him on the bed beside him.

"Are you missing Damian, too?" Jon sighed and smiled when he was licked on the neck. "Should I tell him?"


	14. Chapter 14

When the sky was already purple right before dawn, Damian got off his bike and stumbled in the manor sighing half-heartedly. There’s always work to be done in crime-ridden Gotham, but sometimes the work is way too dull. He can barely punch some criminals because they’re always so weak and stupid it feels like cowardice.

Plenty of time to think of stupid things.

He had been in love with Jon for a while now, but this weekend felt like an overkill. It had been tremendously romantic, except that it wasn’t. His guards were lower than they had ever been, and he was so open-hearted it hurts now.

As he took a shower and left to his bedroom, he lowered every blind to keep his bedroom as dark as a new moon night.

He threw his body on his bed and thought of sending Jon a text. Something silly like asking for a pic of DJ. He had been, nevertheless, too sweet all these days and it wasn’t a really good strategy for him.

When he woke up, in the afternoon of that Monday, however, he didn’t resist. To find a middle ground, he sent an arrogant ‘ _show me a proof of life for DJ. You have to earn my trust on your parenting skills.’_

Jon threw himself on the couch, looking at the message and smiling at it for almost two whole minutes before doing something. He had thought about Damian until falling asleep and then thought about him when he opened his eyes in the morning and during class. It seems to him that those feelings would grow stronger every day. He closed his eyes and there they are, back on the beach, and in every moment of his memories in which there seemed to be an opening for a kiss he felt butterflies in his stomach. It made him giggle to himself and close his eyes all the time, then he blushed and sighed, thinking of how many chances he had missed of kissing Damian for real.

Last night Jon still had doubts about what to do, but when he thought about it in the morning he was decided, he should tell Damian! Or at least do something about it! His only rule to so it was first to be absolutely sure about his feelings because he couldn't risk doing something he would regret later or hurting Damian somehow.

Until that moment he knew that he never had felt it for anyone, boy or girl. He knew that it could only be a crush as much as it could be more and he knew he couldn't stop smiling every time Damian popped up in his head, what was pretty much all the time.

Jon rolled on the couch and smiling he typed back a simple message, only to show that he was there. 'You're so annoying!", and after sending it he called DJ, who showed up in a blink of eyes.

"Let's say hello to daddy!" Jon picked him up and settled the front camera to take pictures of them both. He lifted DJ closer to his face, trying to tell him to look at the camera, but the puppy was more interested in licking his nose, making Jon frown. "Ugh! What did you eat?"

Laughing he still took few more selfies and then sat down with DJ on his lap, choosing the pictures and sending them to Damian.

Jon smirked, having an idea, and in the following hour he had sent Damian a lot of photos of him and DJ. They on the couch, then they choosing a movie on Netflix, they eating popcorn while watching the movie (DJ with a small bowl of dog food), a lot of silly things just to have an excuse to keep talking to Damian all day long.

Damian bit his phone when he saw the pictures, growling. He was on the dining room eating something and he just stood there defeated. Jon was so motherfucking cute. The pictures were selfies of him hugging the puppy, making the cutest silly faces, grimacing when DJ tried to lick his face.

“This. Little. Fucking. Shit.” Damian just hit his forehead on the top of the table weakly again and again in each period. He went to the lab furious with the outrageous amount of fluff and it took him a while before answering, mainly imply that he was doing something better and more important than texting him. When he answered, it was about half an hour later.

Damian: _Are you just chilling watching a movie?_

Damian: _Don’t you have homework to do?_

Damian: _Two days before your exams you’ll go ‘oh please help me with math, damiiiii, you’re so smart and I’m so lazy!_

Damian: _Did you even move your flying ass to go to school today?_

It was basically Damian Wayne for _and how is your day?_

Jon also took a short while to answer but only because he was doing that thing of staring at the phone screen, trying to read between the lines. He always knew how soft Damian was and how much he almost hated to allow someone to see through him, and maybe it was the fact that Damian allowed Jon to be closer than the rest of the world, that Damian was so nice and gentle with him, that was making his heart race like that.

“What do I do with you, Dami?" Jon whispered, lazily sitting on the porch with DJ sleeping on his lap. He wanted to call him to hear his voice and he wanted to fly to him faster as he can. He wanted at least text him telling what he was feeling, but it all demands much more courage than he had.

Jon: _Mom and dad had this job to do and dad let me stay with DJ._

_Jon: He's in love with his first grandson! :p_

He looked at the message after sending it and it seemed that something was missing, so he added ' _btw has it never occurred you that I like it when you teach me? You are much hotter_ -'

"For God's sake, Jonathan!" Jon growled at himself and erased the last sentence as if Damian could see it if he wasn't fast enough.

Jon: _btw has it never occurred to you that I like it when you teach me?_

Jon: _you’re a much better teacher than anyone in that school_

Sighing relieved but not entirely satisfied with his messages he took another picture of DJ sleeping between his legs and added a message.

Jon: _wanna come over and say hello to your son?_

_Jon: I also made cookies._

Yeah, any excuse to be around Damian.

Damian almost wished he actually had something to do and that he wasn’t underused in his lab, merely trying shit, so that he would actually have a good excuse not to go, and not just something made up because he just wished to avoid his crush.

_Damian: I’ve got to train yet. I’ve spent two days without it, with cake and ice cream and shit, and now you offer me cookies? Do you WANT to make me fat?_

It wasn’t a lie at all that he had to train, because he indeed is used to train every day for at least three hours and he had been truly in a fucking vacation lately. But it wasn’t right to say it like that. Not even when he was young he had the heart to be mean to Jon when Jon himself was being cute. He growled at himself and lowered his head to type more.

Damian: _You help me with training, I help you with math._

_Damian: On my way._

Putting his phone inside his pocket he sighed at the self-indulgent shit that Jon turned him into, shaking his head and walking to the garage to pick his bike already and head to the fucking countryside.

Nothing would stop Jon from doing a little victory dance in front of his house. DJ barked and jumped around him happy until Jon picked him up and ran to his room. Yeah, he needed to change his clothes and get ready before Damian arrives. Thanks God for his superspeed, so he could try at least three or four differents clothes before being satisfied enough with his look, a blue T-shirt and dark ragged jeans. Then a little of cologne, the friendship necklace, a little fix with gel on his hair and- What was he doing?

He had been sending photos to Damian, so he saw what he was wearing before! Cologne, Jon? Really? He looked at the time and used his super hearing to check if Damian was close and he already could hear him not far from there. He even thought that he could change again, but before anything in his room was a chaos of clothes and he decided to clean it up first.

"What am I doing?" Jon asked himself, stopping in the middle of the room and slapping his own face. Now he forgot about the super speed? Snorting he cleaned up the room in a few seconds and feeling proud enough of himself he went downstairs with DJ to wait for Damian.

He brought the plate of cookies to the living room and turned the TV on to pretend that he was doing more than just waiting for his crush/best friend. Then he ran to grab his books to study and placed them beside the cookies. And when he heard Damian's bike on the backyard he ran to the back door and then held DJ on his arms to have an excuse to be doing it.

All his outfit to impress still was on,  since Jon completely forgot that he supposed to have changed long minutes ago. And of course Damian noticed, and it was weird because Jon used to show up in his pajamas to greet him, but it wasn’t weird enough to hold his attention. He just looked really handsome like that and Damian wondered whether it wasn’t a bad idea to give him a puppy. All his cuteness was up to eleven.

Damian himself was wearing smart casual, quite regular to him, all dark tones in the clothing, and inside his backpack he had his training clothes and all needed. He smirked at Jon and lifted one eyebrow at the stiffness of his body ever since he arrived.

“Hello, little boy!” He said with a silly voice like one talks to a pet, but then added playfully. “Hello, DJ!”

He caressed DJ’s head as he wiggled desperately in Jon’s lap from too much excitement. Having messed with Jon, he also tapped on his face playfully and winked before just walking past him and entering the house without looking back.

Jon sighed, melted from inside since Damian touched his face like that. Jesus, he was sure he was with heart eyes right now, so he looked down and placed DJ on the floor, watching him go to jump around Damian and kind of envying him.

“I hate your cookies, Jon. I might really get fat with them.” He picked one cookie and bit it, groaning low. “You totally owe me training.”

"Yeah, because I'm totally forcing you to eat it!" he shrugged and scratched his nape, stepping closer to Damian. Looking down he giggled at DJ on Damian's feet begging for attention. "Traitor!"

Sitting on the couch he raised his eyes to Damian when he felt normal again and then he ruined it sighing when he thought that Damian was so darn good-looking. No, no! Gorgeous! He was _so_ handsome! Jon blinked lazily and tilted his head without noticing how much he was staring and at the same time thinking that he could watch Damian eat for the rest of his life.

Damian caught Jon’s stare by the corner of his eye and stopped mid-chewing. What’s he staring at? He wiped the crumbles on the corner of his lips and frowned, but didn’t say anything.

“You do know I wasn’t kidding when I said you’d help me training, right? I brought the super resistent bands and everything.” He said while walking towards him, and the way Jon brushed it off looked again weird. Leaving the backpack on the couch beside Jon, he opened the zipper. “I need you to fetch me ropes, a wooden box and a pair of tractor tires from the warehouse.”

With that, he took his jacket off and left aside, picking his work out clothes inside the backpack.

"Ok..." Jon swallowed hard and for the first time he thought that it was a bad idea to have Damian there. How on Earth he could keep focus in anything after being so aware of Damian's beauty? Those arms, Jon just wanted to skim his fingers on his skin. With a deep and nothing discreet sigh Jon blinked and diverted his eyes, feeling that he was blushing again with his thoughts. "Ok." he repeated a little lost before get up.

Biting his finger he walked out the house to do all the asked things. It wasn’t supposed to be that hard to be around Damian just because now he was aware of his feelings. Dang, his feelings! He didn't have to think so much about it, to be honest. He is in love and the pain in his chest was fear that Damian would not love him back in the same way. After settling everything in place he went back to the house.

"Dami, everything is ready!" Jon twisted his lips and avoided looking at him. He couldn't let him know and at the same time he wanted to try and tell him him and the doubts were making him act weird.

And it was hard for things alike to be unnoticed by Damian. It was truly like Jon had something to say, because Jon sucked in trying to be discreet or keep a secret at all. It started making Damian  pay closer attention, but it didn’t really worry him. He knew that whatever it was, Jon would end up spilling it. That was just him. And he really had to train now.

He changed for his boot-like sneakers, a tank and pants for running, and ran out to the field. At first he was just doing high-performance crossfit circuits, running, climbing, pushing and jumping with heavy weighs on his calves and forearms. Meanwhile Jon was remarkably and unlikely silent, blue eyes looking away like he does when he’s overthinking. At most he would help out with pulling the rope or lifting the boxes, the things he was supposed to do.

To finish the session he asked Jon to hold his calves in place on the top of the tallest box so that he could hang upside down on the edge and do inverted sit ups. In his mind he wondered over things to say or ask to make Jon open up, but he didn’t utter anything.

It wasn't easy at all to Jon and he should do more than just look anxiously at the sky to avoid staring at Damian. But about what they used to talk, again? How did he use to act before around him? Jon couldn't think about one single smart thing to say, he has forgotten completely how to initiate a conversation with him! Should he ask about the weather?

"Did- did you, hm, went out last night to fight crime?" _Fight crime?_ Oh, my God! Was he ten years old again? He blushed and squeezed his lips in a line, feeling stupid. How would he make Damian stop seeing him like a kid if he doesn’t stop acting like one? "I- I mean, you could have called me!"

“I’m out almost every night. Consider yourself always invited. Just show up in Gotham and we’ll hit the crime-ridden streets.” He jumped on top of the wooden crate and crouched to lean on the edge. “But don’t blame me if you can’t wake up for school the next day. Help me out here. A couple hundred and I’m good, I guess.” He added, meaning the sit ups.

Damian didn’t try to go on with a talk because it would demand from his diaphragm and all and he was just focused in answering a couple of random questions Jon seemed to pop out of the blue. It was really odd to be facing Jon every time he lifted his body, and he didn’t know exactly why. Jon avoided staring at him and in a certain point the amount of silly remarks from his friend made him give up in 150 sit ups. Still, he didn’t complain, thanking Jon for the support. There was something really off with him.

“So, guess I’m allowed to your batch of cookies now! I’ll borrow your shower for a couple of minutes and we’ll do your homework, shall we?” He tapped on Jon’s shoulder and smiled, turning away and lifting the hem of the tank top to wipe the thin layer of sweat that there was on his neck.

 _Please, don't do this!_ Jon whined and then tried to disguise it by coughing. That sweaty skin, Jon just wanted to caress these abs and kiss that neck. Jesus, his thoughts where sort of innocent one hour ago, it wasn’t supposed to evolve this fast! Well, two days ago he just saw Damian as a friend, so what else could he expect?

No, no, no! It wasn't a passion. It wasn't a fling, he could feel it in each heartbeat that it was much more than a crush. He ran after Damian to reach him after noticing that he stood still drooling over him.

"Yeah, okay!" he walked by his side, looking at the ground but always trying to peek Damian by the corner of his eyes. He wanted to touch him, to hold his hand, and the desire to do that compelled him to walk a little closer, but he was so nervous that he ended stumbling and he bumped on Damian, instinctively raising one hand to hold on him.

“So- sorry!" he stammered, his hand on Damian's chest and his face so close of his, and now he just couldn't stop looking at his lips, wishing so much he could kiss him but without the courage to do so.

Damian got nervous with again such proximity between them both and the fact that he glimpsed Jon looking at his lips made his heart race in what he was sure to be audible by Jon. So one second late he just stepped back, frowning, pushing his hand, the rude tone back to his voice.

“Holy shit, Jonathan, you’re in another world today.” He growled and gave his back, resuming walking to the house, fast. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, tell me if you wanna, but if you don’t then just figure your shit out and snap out of it!”

As soon as he reached the house, already regretful of having been this rude but unable to go back and apologize about it - mainly because it had been his way of deflecting - Damian grabbed his backpack and marched to the bathroom.

Jon's heart was hammering hard, like crazy, and he remained standing in place with hands covering his face because of the shame. What was he doing? Damian was mad with him now because he just couldn't stay cool for once! What an idiot he was! He heard Damian closing the bathroom door and just then he could take the hands off of his face, placing them on his chest as he tried to calm down.

So, so close! They were so unbelievably close and Damian's lips where so pink and full!

"Stop it, Jonathan!" he growled to himself, grabbing his hair, and after a few deep breaths he walked back to the house.

DJ was waiting for Damian laying in front of the bathroom door and Jon sat on his bed to do the same. Two loyal puppies! The difference was that Jon was impatient and soon he got up, walking in circles. He glimpsed his own image in the mirror and sighed frustrated. The nice outfit he chose to impress was now all dirty and Damian hasn’t even noticed it. He was trying too hard and it was only upsetting Damian, what was completely the opposite of what Jon wanted.

Ok, back to being himself. Only friends was good enough for him, better than being someone who just bothers who they love. Decided he got downstairs again, to the kitchen, anytd looked for a few things. Then back to the living room to look if everything was in the place and when he noticed that he had forgotten the pencils he went upstairs again.

Damian took a little longer than he wished in the shower, trying to figure shit out. He was just so confuse and Jon didn’t deserve being mistreated because of that. Instead, he should have asked, cool enough, what was bothering him - because something obviously was. It happened when they were together, closer - could Jon have started suspecting of Damian’s feelings and (as Jon always does) can’t actually deal with such? Could it be that he tried to approach the subject, by inviting his friend over, but now is too embarrassed even so?

Should he say he invited Emiko out? Or that he planned on doing it? To brush it off? Such bullshit. Imagine if he gets trapped in that nonsense and actually has to invite her out? He had no fucking idea on what to do and he didn’t want to think of it at all. The only first date he’s ever planned had ‘Jon’ written all over it and he’d rather take such plans to his grave than to use them with someone else.

After leaving shower, he spent time petting DJ and playing with him, so when Jon entered the bedroom he was only on his pants, barefoot and shirtless, stretching a little his arms.

“Hey.” He turned to Jon. “I’m going downstairs already.”

 _Keep. It. Cool._ Jon looked at his desk fighting against every single cell of his body to not look at Damian. It was torture! Torture!

"I just came to grab my pencil case! I'll let you change!" Jon indeed just grabbed his case over the desk and he was about to leave when he stopped on the door, sighing. "Listen, sorry about earlier. I was just, I don't know, overthinking a few stuff  and, well..." he scratched his nape and turned to Damian. "I think my head is still on vacation!" he giggled and moved his feet anxious, kicking the air.

Jon looked like a puppy which knew it peed in the wrong place, so much cute guilt in his expression. Was he _blushing_? Was there any need for it? Pouting, Damian cleared his throat and hummed before answering.

“Hm. It’s okay. I... hum, there wasn’t need for me to be rude, either. Uh. Let’s, just go.” He picked his T-shirt and put it on, crouching to put his shoes on as well.

There was this weird awkward moment as they sat down to study, Jon on the rug of the living room and Damian on the couch, but having a separated subject to pay attention to made time go much faster.

Throughout their friendship Damian came from just telling Jon the right answer to actually enjoying the teaching. He could see Jon was smart for his age and for regular minds, so, even though Damian knew how to do such high school stuff when he was four and it would always feel to him like dog training, he actually enjoyed doing it.

To Jon, who didn't like math, the moment was being very good. He could keep his mind busy with something really useful and have Damian by his side in a normal situation. Plus his homework was almost done, so it was only win, win and win.

Now that particular problem that he was working on was a little difficult and he was taking some time to solve it. Equations! Jesus, he hated equations!

"Ok, so..." he said loud, trying again. "All I have to do is to find the slope of a line parallel to the x=5 line... Ok."

Jon frowned, completely lost. He knew something about it, but he couldn't remember what he supposed to do. He tried to snort but it sounded more like a cry of a puppy. He didn't want to ask for Damian's help only because he already taught him it and Jon didn't want him to think that he wasn't paying attention (he was! This time he wasn't thinking how well drawn Damian's nose was or something like that!).

Damian was leaning his head on the arm of the sofa, smiling foolishly at how he could watch Jon on the floor amidst paper sheets, his brain in short circuit, clearly trying his best not to disappoint him. Since he was laying on the sofa which Jon’s back was leaning on, with a bit of caution he could just watch the younger’s struggle. But then decided to put an end to that suffering.

“Parallel lines have the same slope. So that means you...” With that, Damian approached from behind, tilting his body towards Jon and passing an arm above his shoulder to point at the notebook. That was when Jon also looked back, to pay attention on whatever Damian was saying - so he turned right when his face was beside his.

Damian could basically feel a breath of Jon’s on his own cheek and his heart raced immediately.

And time froze for both. Jon looked at Damian's face and could feel him looking back, glancing through the corner of his eye, until he got the courage to look at his eyes. Were they ever this closer before? Probably not, at least not being so aware of each others proximity.

Damian tried to keep his control. Nothing was happening whatsoever. Nothing _could_ be happening. He could not give away his will to end that inch that separated them and just jump into Jon’s arms.

“You... use the given equation, the one you, the one you have in here to find first, and then you...” His neck was tingling and he was speaking even slower. “...find the slope of the first line, because, um, the lines are parallel...”

Jon was looking, gazing at him, so closely that he simply couldn’t think.

"Green." Jon said suddenly, just a hush but enough to bring him back to the trip he had been having in Damian's green eyes. "The... The answer!” He gave a short chuckle and licked his very suddenly dry lips, what immediately caught Damian's attention. He turned the slightest towards him, to almost lock their stares, Jon’s lips aligned with the corner of his. Almost a fucking perfect match.

And then Damian knew that Jon was looking at his mouth. Was he trapped in a weird dream? Every move, the slightest, could make him snap, and Jon made a move, tilting his head closer. With that, Damian retreated, pushing his body back so suddenly it would have been ten times more discreet to have just chuckled and joked it away or pretended it didn’t happen. No. He had to fucking act like Jon was lava.

“You use the given equation to find the slope of the first line and since the lines are parallel that’s the slope of the second line, I’m, I’m, uh, a bit tired of you not getting the things I’ve already explained, I’ll get some water, do you want some?” To worsen it, but because he entered in some sort of fit he wasn’t used to have, Damian spoke fast and then got up. “Look at DJ, isn’t he chewing on your pencil again?”

"Yeah! Sorry! Yeah!" Jon said loud, looking down at his notebook. What heck had just happened?

Damian gave his back, holding his breath. At least Jon didn’t have to notice how fucking much he was _blushing_ , unless he decided to fuck it all and just X-Ray shit. Shit. That’s so fucking stupid! Why couldn’t he react like the trained, skilled, discreet agent he was? He was doomed to ruin everything eventually.

Jon placed one hand over his racing heart and then noticed something odd. The heartbeats that he were listening were different of his own. Paying a little more of attention he barely had to use his super hearing, all he had to do was discreetly look at Damian when he was back from the kitchen and he knew that his heart was hammering fast and loud as his own. He tried to look at Damian's face and it could be his imagination but did he glimpse his neck and ear flushing? What. Was. Happening?

"I-" What do I say? What do I do? He stared his own hands again and then get up suddenly. "I'll be right back!"

Jon practically ran to the now empty kitchen without looking again at Damian. He leaned on the sink and saw his hands shaking, so he took a deep breath - a lot of deep breaths - and thought about what to do now. Ok. It wasn't the end of the world! Damian was just acting like Damian uses to act: like a very angry street cat. He didn't seem to be truly angry though, and it was good. Jon had no idea what would happen if he really successfully had finished with the distance between them and the fact that he wished he had been faster only made him blush. What if they kissed? Would Damian  argue? Would he hate it? Would he... Kiss him back? Jesus, he heard how fast Damian's heart was beating! Were those heartbeats from anger?

"Be. Cool!" Jon closed his eyes and sighed, turning to go back to the living room. First he grabbed a jar that was over the table and decidedly he walked back. "Let's finish studying for today and eat! Hey, look! I made something for you to stop complaining about my cookies!" he said everything very fast, then took a deep breath to calm himself down before keep talking. "Healthy cookies, what do you think?"

Opening the jar he looked at Damian and felt his smile trembling.

"With, hmm, wholemeal flour, oat and raisin. I was testing different doughs. Dad didn't like it, but I think the taste is good..."

Better trained in disguising his anxiety near Jon (even though apparently he slips), Damian reached out to the jar to pick a cookie as if nothing had happened before between them. His mind was parallely working on how Jon seemed very willing to kiss him and how it reflected in everything around them.

After the weekend, Jon had been drastically different. And it wasn’t to repel him, but to be closer, touch him, fondle him, snuggle with him.

Could it ever...?

He brushed it off.

It was something he’d think better when he’s by himself.

He was chewing and then he smirked with his mouth close at Jon.

“Good for me your dad didn’t like it!” He took the jar from Jon’s hands and hugged it to his chest, and Jon’s pure, kind of embarrassed smile was the brightest ray of sunshine. Jon was widely smiling now, watching Damian holding the jar like it was a precious treasure. Yeah, they would survive his slip.

"Lucky you dad and I are practically addicted to sugar! You can keep it all, I can give you the recipe later!" He said like it was nothing to make up an entire new recipe just for Damian.

Jon went back to the kitchen to grab some milk and they sat down to eat, talking about nothing specific. Jon still caughed himself drooling over Damian, smiling sillily at him, and tried his best to disguise it before things became weird again. Above everything he was feeling for Damian his priority was to make him smile and feel good. Anything else came later.

That afternoon went by still a little awkward in the silences, or so each felt.  It was, however, still very pleasant, like they just couldn’t really get enough of each other’s presence. Damian felt indeed like the infatuation had became harder - not the real feeling, but the weight which it overwhelmed him. The intensity of the last days had been drenching their relationship in fluff and cuteness.

And it could have infected Jon as well.

Damian was thinking exactly of that when moment he walked in the dining room to go to the kitchen on the Wayne manor, after having minded his business and gone some places else, he found Dick, Tim and Barbara having a rather early dinner.

“Hey, Babs.” Damian said nonchalantly as if his two brothers weren’t in the room. “How was it in Beijing?”

“It was nice. Loved the food. Everything else is classified.” She chuckled and leaned forward, reaching for her coffee cup. “But you must have much better things to tell us. How was your weekend with Jon?”

“No suggestive tone, if you may.” Damian snorted.

“I was just asking!” She raised her hands.

“I know my beloved brothers have been saying shit, don’t play coy.” He approached picked an apple on the table.

“Didn’t you say it’s okay if we mess with you, if we don’t bother Jon?” Tim shrugged.

“I didn’t mean I wouldn’t tell you to go fuck yourselves and mind your fucking business. By the way, thank you very much for that, I guess everyone was so annoying about it Jon is thinking of me this way already.”

The three on the table looked honestly confused.

“And you are _angry_ about it?” Dick asked, lifting one brow.

“Weren’t _you_ into him this way?” Barbara added.

“It is not your fucking business!” Damian roared, murderous eyes. “It’s not like you think, I don’t have a fucking crush on him like a goddamn teenager! Now _Jon_ might have, he might have seen our vacation like a romantic retreat or something!”

“And that is bad because...” Tim started.

“Because I am not like that all the time! _Life_ is not like that all the time! Jon is dreamy, a romantic himself, and worst of all, a teenager, every feeling in the world up to eleven! For him to may have have crushed on me in that specific situation is like he’s watched a romantic comedy. This is a goddamn disaster!”

“Damian, you kind of are like that all the time with him. Maybe all it took was a different situation for him to notice.” Dick tried, a comprehensive voice.

Damian clenched his fists. Why the fuck he was opening up with them like that? Shit, his mind was such a mess!

“Wanna speak of relationships? Are you and Babs still fucking? And you, Tim, which bat-person are you up to bang now, Jason, Stephs? And is the three of you a thing?” Damian asked, not actually meaning any of it, just to be aggressive, and left the room without giving the least of a fuck for the answer.

They couldn’t understand how it worked, not at all. They didn’t know Jon like he did. Too precious, too bright, too good, waiting on the prince or princess to treat them right and be kind to them like they deserve.

Damian could try to be that person. He tried many times, just to earn Jon’s admiration. But he wasn’t. Jon had to see it, and his obviously superficial crush would fade away very soon. It was clearly just a bunch of random emotions taking Jon over.

On that night, not aware of Damian's thoughts, Jon went to sleep with a big smile. Maybe it wasn't a helpless situation, maybe they could be something else, something... more. Jon giggled to himself, hugging the Robin cushion and remembering everything about that afternoon. He knew Damian too well, he knew that he didn't dislike anything that happened. Damian would punch him, even if that means a broken hand, just to show his how disgusted he could be, but no. He blushed! Jon was certain that he blushed. And stayed! He didn't run away, he didn't try to stay away nor anything like that, and Jon saw a bridge right there.

He rolled on the bed and DJ snuggled better against him, almost on his neck, making Jon giggle at the ceiling and pet his head. Then he grabbed his phone on the nightstand and he couldn't control himself because he wanted to talk to Damian all the time. So before he knows exactly what he was doing he sent a simple:

Jon: _thanks for the help today._ Jon _: Good night, D. :3_

And very happy about everything, Jon closed his eyes to sleep.

If he only knew how that message hit Damian.

He was leaning his forehead on the surface of his desk, cellphone on hands.

It was so unfair. What wouldn’t he do for Jon to actually want to be with him, but could he ever if he hasn’t done a whole cinema act for that romantic fool?

He was a teenager, after all. It wasn’t his fault, it was Damian’s for trying so hard to please him, to make him happy, to make him think he was the best thing ever.

He didn’t answer the message. He never answered anyone’s texts, that was him and that was how he should act the next weeks, to remind everyone of who he really is. If Jon would like him, he would like him that way, and that was why Damian was so certain he wouldn’t.

And he was very goddamn wrong.


	15. Chapter 15

The problem about Damian’s plan was that with Jon it didn't work. Really he knew Damian too well, so nothing of his bad attitude from him could bother more than usual, and plus that Jon was a little blind because of his infatuation, he could confess it to himself.

And the dream! Oh, Jon woke up from a beautiful dream he had about Damian. He couldn't remember the details but he did remember to hug Damian from behind in the dream, and he was sweaty and shirtless, maybe they were training, and Jon kissed his neck. That beautiful and well sculpted neck! It was enough to send shivers to all his body and Jon didn't need much more to wake up smiling. What wouldn’t he give to make that dream come true?

Of course that Damian wasn't the easiest person in the world, but to Jon that's the exact point of everything he was feeling. He was tough with a pure heart, it was also why he insisted that befriending Damian was a great idea since the beginning. Jon remembered when they began their very unusual friendship and how he thought that Damian was insufferable. That kid not that much older than him, bossing around and telling Jon how to act, what to say, what to do, it was really annoying! But Jon never needed to use his X-ray vision on him to see underneath. He knew the good heart of his friend, he saw his good intentions and he could understand his temper. Jon had always admired the strength and the determination of him and he thought it was beautiful in many ways.

On his way to the weekly meeting in the Titans tower Jon giggled at himself at how excited he was to see Damian. It would be a great day if he could stay closer to him, for sure.

Only that Damian would definitely not allow it, cold-bloodedly putting to test everything Jon might be feeling. So he made sure to be the most insufferable he could the next days. The Titans needed training? They did, so they would have proper training. No stupid breaks, do they think they are on vacation? SEALS and FBI agents train harder than them, do they think this is acceptable? And too bad he heard them calling him a pinscher dictator (small, loud and angry), because he made it twice as hard and warned he’d do so every time he heard a peep.

Jon was just an agent, a soldier, and he was a harsh general; things would happen this way. And no, he couldn’t go out for ice cream with him; he was busy with less stupid things! That healthy ice cream Jon bought and brought to him afterwards so that he didn’t have to stop working wasn’t animal-friendly (actually it was,  he knew it because Jon always brings it to him, Damian just ran out of excuses), so he should give it to someone else. And no, he doesn’t need any stupid help. Go mind your teenager business, throw  a house party, play baseball!

His closer friends and mainly the people that were on Jon’s birthday were getting extra annoyed in, that long, torturing week, and it started spreading to everyone else around there - specially those under his yoke. Obviously, he was being an even bigger dick than usual. Denying to go out for pizza with them on Friday when Jon invited was the one thing he did for altruism - he knew that Jon, for some fucking reason, was the only one who wanted him there.

It was unnerving, but Jon always had a smile on, which he had to take off his face when he actually wanted to be the reason for him to widen it. It was terrible. How could he even? Jon had always been this way, like he’s above everything bad in the world. Damian got to a point where he felt sick in being that mean, but it had to be done.

Things were considerably different in Jon’s point of view. In the beginning of the next week Jon kept positive about everything. How not to? He kept on dreaming about Damian and his fresh love was blooming everyday a little more. And his heart eyes all over Damian were working like a powerful filter for the past week, so he didn't feel anything tremendously wrong or bad from Damian.

He didn't have time to play around? Oh, boy! Damian was so focused and amazing! The thing Jon did was wrong? Well, he was with his head on the clouds lately and Damian was probably right. So amazingly observant! He yelled at everyone? Such a beautiful voice!

Jon started to giggle alone when he noticed his own smile thinking of those things and he even imagined himself with hearts floating around his head everytime Damian did absolutely anything. Look at him arguing with Raven! His face was so pretty and his eyes sort of glowed with the rage. Seriously, look at him throwing things at Dick! Jesus, the way his muscles worked! He wasn't crazy or blind but every time Damian looked at him and then gazed at anything else, boy, Jon felt like electricity on his body.

Thanks God that Damian was busy and with no time at all for him because this way Jon could think better and decide what to do and how to do. He wanted to be his boyfriend, he wanted to be together, he wanted to hold him in his arms until... Until something happens because Jon couldn't find a reasonable motive to let him go. And Jon was planning to talk with him soon, but before he needed to be sure about it like he never been sure about anything else in his life, so as discreet as he thought he could be he began to ask for advices from their common friends.

Starting with Raven, that just came to ask him why he wasn't bothered with the free sample of hell that Damian was giving everyone.

"He's just having a bad day. Hey, listen... Do you have time now? I want to ask you something..."

"Sure, Jonny! Anything to stay away from Demon! And that’s me saying.” She said playfully.

***

“Damian is conflicted.” She said as they were on the balcony, leaning on the rails, actually serious now. “He doesn’t allow me to touch him at all because he knows I’ll see everything. But I’d be a pretty shitty empath if I could only understand feelings through actual power. Empathy is a characteristic as well. It doesn’t mean I’m not getting hell from how much of an asshole he is being. I wish you luck.”

***

The Tamaraneans were naturally a race which learned to embrace their emotions and take wholehearted decisions, so when Jon said he intended to speak his mind to Damian, Koriand’r was fully up to it. She cheered the feeling with him and insisted he should confess them to Damian.

The talk had been inspiring, beautiful, leaving Jon’s heart full of hope and excitement - but Damian wasn’t a Tamaranean. He was very far from being someone to deal with his emotions rather than unleashing anger.

Yeah, he’d have to keep on searching for better advice to confirm it.

***

“WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO YOURSELF???”, was Garth’s answer the next day for when Jon mentioned he was into Damian and wanted to be with him romantically.

Then he turned into a mule. The conversation didn’t evolve much further than that.

***

It probably had sounded like a good idea to ask someone older and married to a man as well. So in the other day, when that brunet friend of Dick’s leaned on the wall and meddled in his conversation with Aqualad on gay dating, Jon paid attention.

“... but fuck, I basically don’t have to eat or anything, but your water powers would really come in handy when-“

“Midnighter, get away from the children!” Dick roared from the distance. “Cover your ears while it isn’t too late, boys!”

“I was just having some gay talk with the boys!” Midnighter sounded amused, about to burst on laughter when Dick actually lifted his escrima sticks as if he could actually throw them on him if he said anything else.

“Some ga- You’ll traumatize them! I will murder you! I’ll find a way!” Dick said, just as roared, pointing at him and walking closer fast. Laughing, Midnighter sprinted away playfully and held on the air the escrima sticks Dick actually threw at him, and they walked away, arguing and bantering.

"Hey, Jonathan!" Dick called suddenly, letting Midnighter go ahead while he stopped to say something. "I want to talk to you later! Meet me in my quarters!"

Jon barely had time to answer and Dick was already gone. He frowned, finding it unusual of Dick to use such a serious tone with him, but yelled an "okay" to him before keep going.

***

So far Jon didn't have much luck. He already knew what he wanted, the problem was how to do it, and until that moment no one helped very much. With a deep sigh he knocked on the door of the person he was looking for, but someone else opened it.

"Hey, hey, hey, Jonny boy!" Bart smiled and ruffled Jon's hair with his superspeed. "Jaime, we have visitors! Come in, Jon!"

"Hm, ok!" Jon had always felt a little lost with Bart. He was one of the fastest men, if not the fastest, and his personal rhythm was very alike. He gave a short smile and stepped inside, looking at Jaime in a corner of the room. Well, of course Bart would be there, they're married! "Are you guys busy right now? I would like to talk to you two, if possible..."

Jaime was sitting on a chair, reading, and lowered the book when he saw Jon. He glanced at Bart and they shared a look before Jaime close his book and calmly placed it on the nightstand.

"Sure! Please!" Jaime got up, offering the chair to Jon, sitting then on the bed. Bart came closer and stood up beside his husband, still smiling at Jon.

With another sigh Jon accepted the invitation and he gazed at his feet for a moment before saying something.

"Do you mind if I ask how- how you two began to date? You were friends before, right?"

The two of them shared a look, side smiles, aware of what that was about and finding it tremendously cute. It was Bart who started speaking.

“I came from the future to keep an eye on this troublemaker here.” He poked Jaime’s rib. “It isn’t any secret.”

“If it were, you’d be telling everyone anyway.” Jaime poked him back.

“Such a calumny! I’ve kept my secret very well! I’m a responsible time traveler!”

“I can’t actually argue about that, that’s the worst part.” Jaime sighed, smiling.

“And you shouldn't have come back to the future?” Jon asked, leaning forward on the chair, elbows on his knees and hands together, interested.

“I wouldn’t be able to.” Bart answered. “Everything was at war and the timeline shattered when I came back. I just had one shot. And I could build a future beside him, better in every way.”

Jon couldn’t help but letting out an “aww”, leaning his chin on his hands and smiling. They giggled.

“That was awfully sweet, Bart.” Jaime reached out for his hand, interlacing their fingers.

“You never see me coming.” He smirked, then looked at Jon. “Oh, but I don’t mean it when we’re-“

“ _Bart_.” Jaime interrupted him promptly.

“Sorry.”

Jaime chuckled, turning back to Jon.

“Well. You know. The Beetle is a powerful entity. I might have turned bad more than once if it weren’t for them. For him.” He gestured with his head to his husband. “But Bart knew that he would have to stop me. Instead of killing me, he became my friend and kept me away from influence, from the possibility of the Beetle to be deviated.”

“And, well, we were together all the time.” Bart added. “I used to tell myself it was to watch his back, but guess I was checking out his _culo_ as well, you know?”

“ _Le juro por Dios_ , Bartholomew.”

Jon buried his face on his hands, really laughing but also embarrassed. Bart was impossible!

Bart was laughing as well, and he pushed weakly Jon.

“Time goes by too fast, Jon. You can’t waste it away being afraid and wishing things to happen. Tell him how you feel.”

“Wait, wait.” Jaime made the gesture for them to hold on.  “Bart is always so hurried. He says this because one day he came over and kissed me. Just like this. It took me a minute to even understand what had happened. I agree with him when he says you shouldn’t be wishing things away. But I think you should be cautious about how you feel and how you want for yourself. Then tell him indeed. Because Damian, he... um. If you just go kissing him and he’s startled he may, I don’t know, try to knock you out. And find a way to do it!” He laughed a bit.

Jon smiled a little sad, reaching the point on the conversation that he was very afraid of.

"Bart, have you ever thought what if Jaime hadn't liked it? What if you misunderstood the signals and he didn't like you that way? And you, Jaime, what would you have done if you hadn't liked? Would you keep the friendship with him?"

Again Jaime and Bart shared a look, but a different one now. Jon's conflict was wise despite of still be very cute since he obviously was the only one who didn't know how crazy Damian was about him.

"Well," Bart began, sitting beside Jaime. "In that time I knew I should give a shot. I wanted to be with Jaime as much as I wanted the war to end, it was a very strong feeling. Still is!" he glanced at Jaime, smiling to him. "And I don't like wasting time!"

They all chuckled and Jon saw by the corner of his eyes their hands tightening the grip.

"To me everything happened naturally. We met, he annoyed me, we became friends, we became best friends, he kissed me, we became boyfriends..."

"We became crazy for each other!" Bart added, giggling.

"You drove me crazy, that's what you mean!"

"That was only when we became lovers!" he said suggestively, raising his brows, and Jaime rolled his eyes, turning his full attention to Jon to ignore Bart.

"The thing is that I don't know what could happen if I didn't like it, and you're not wrong in having this fear. My advice is that anyway you should talk to him. Don't think too much about 'ifs', this will hold you back forever if you allow. Have an open heart as much as an open mind and don't mix things up. He can say 'no' to you, but it doesn’t mean that he hates you or that the friendship is over. Remember that Damian was always by your side, no matter what, so you know he cares about you above anything. And in case he say yes to you, well..."

Bart kissed his cheek quickly, as to finish the obvious conclusion, and they chuckled again.

Jon felt his heart full. Jaime is right and he forgot to think of this aspect. They're friends above anything that may happen and Damian wasn't the type of person who would abandon him.

Jon thanked for the talk and got up, feeling that he finally had the conversation that he needed to follow his heart. It was kind of funny that he wanted to see Damian right now not to confess his feelings, but only to see him or hug him because he was so happy because of him, that grumpy, silly and gorgeous Damian! Walking across the halls he didn't try to disguise his enormous smile to anyone, and then he remembered that he was supposed to meet Dick in his room later.

He glanced at the hours and it was still a little early, but he walked to Dick's quarters anyway. As soon as he finished everything he had to do he could have time to look for Damian and, hm, find any excuse to be around him.

It took Dick a little while to get there, but he had let his quarters open. Even though his tone had been serious, he smiled openly when he saw Jon.

“Hey, Jon! Have a seat!” He pointed to a chair and pulled one to himself. “I hope Midnighter didn’t traumatize you too much. Don’t listen to _any_ advice coming from that guy. He’s literally the best fighter possible, and he means well, but he’s a total freak. Apollo is a little more centered, but they’re both psychos.”

When he looked at Jon’s expression, he saw the concern amid the politeness, and decided for going right to the matter not to leave him anxious.

“So, Jon.” He sat down. “I’ll go straight to the subject, which is Damian.” He interlaced his fingers and smiled softly at him. “It came to my knowledge some stuff you have been saying to the groups. Even though we learn to keep secrets, between us people gossip a lot, you should know that. You’re not very discreet, Jonny.”

Dick laughed and tilted his head, leaning forward to tap Jon’s arm.

“We kind of got that after your birthday you two had something that made you think you and him could be something else, more than friends. I particularly think it’s an awesome happening. We’re rooting for you. But there’s one thing. You know, I shouldn’t be saying this to you either. But taking into consideration everything, Damian will know everything soon, and you’ll have to make a decision. So I have to ask.”

Then, Dick seemed serious, even if not really austere. Dick had always this easygoing, lovely vibe, with an endearing smile it was hard to get he was more than twice his age and with heavy emotional burden. His eyes had something soft, yet wise, fatherly. He was wholeheartedly concerned.

“How _actually_ invested are you in this? How do you see yourself with Damian? Is this for real? You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I beg you to think of that. Very carefully. May you?”

Jon sighed deeply, like he was holding his breath since Dick began to talk.

"Wow, that's really straight to the subject!" he chuckled briefly and thought for one second before raising his eyes to Dick. "First of all thank you for having this talk with me. I guess it means a lot to both of us and, especially, to Damian, so I'll try to be direct and honest with you as much as you were with me. I really like Damian and, as far as I know it can be love."

It was kind of funny that Jon froze a little after saying the word love out loud so someone else, but it actually feels good.

"I say it can be because I’ve never fallen in love before, but at the same time this is exactly why I know that is different with him. You see, I already had crushes and in the beginning I thought it could the same with Damian, but it isn't. The weekend with him was amazing, for sure, but wasn't the reason for everything I'm feeling for him, it was more to show me what was already there. So, to me, I wish we become boyfriends, a really serious thing, and above everything I just want to make Damian happy."

Leaning his back on the backrest he sighed again, but tried to keep it serious.

"Oh, yes!" Jon said suddenly, feeling he was letting few things aside. "If Damian doesn't feel the same I'll not be angry with him or anything like that! He have all the right to not like me back and being friends with him already is enough for me. And I've just been telling everyone because I'm looking for advices, I don't want do to anything wrong, so I'm preparing myself first before saying anything to him, but I'm planning on doing it in the most respectful way, Dick. Sir!"

“Don’t you ‘sir’ me!” Dick laughed and kept open a bright, encouraging smile, getting up, so Jon got up as well.  “You have no idea how happy all you said makes me.” He laid a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “I only ask you this because I know how important your friendship is and how much you mean to Damian. You bring out the best of him. I think you two are made for each other and this will work out. That’s exactly why you shouldn’t mess with it just for kicks. But if you want to go all the way with this, I’d be the first to support you, brother-in-law!” He threw his arm around Jon’s shoulder and on hooked his arm on his neck to bring him closer playfully before releasing him. “That was it, you’re free. Just think about this, ok?”

“I will! Thank you, Dick! I promise I'll behave and I'm not saying it just because the Bat-family has access to kryptonite!" Jon chuckled before leaving, feeling his heart light. It was always good to see people who cared about Damian.

Then, besides everything clarified and Jon's certain about his feelings, he ended up avoiding Damian until finding an excuse to leave. Now he was feeling nervous, a little anxious and scared. Dick called him 'brother-in-law' and Jon thought it extremely cute, but also very important. A relationship with Damian would change everything he knows so it was really, really a big thing. But he wasn’t afraid enough to step back. In fact, he was determined he would tell Damian the next time he sees him, no delay.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now this is an emotional rollercoaster - from crack to feels  
> (basedo on a true, actual script from Batman: The animated series)

When Damian heard what the officers said through the police radio, which he always listened to, he laughed his lungs out.

“ _ Nine, we have a... situation here in the top of the building beside Brentwood Academy. There was a robbery attempt in the snack bar beside, the subject fled and now that he’s corralled he is holding hostages on top of Dini building. He seems entirely inoffensive and some of the hostages are flipping him off and leaving but we can’t be sure. He shot the snack bar attendant with non-lethal weaponry.” _

_ “What did he use?” _

_ “Um, it appears to be mustard, sir.” _

_ “What did you say, officer?” _

_ “He shot a squirt of mustard on the attender with a weird adapted gun. He’s calling himself the Condiment King.” _

But when Bruce came over in the Batcave and told him to go over there and make the arrest instead of going with him, Tim and Dick to an actual, probable case, Damian stopped laughing.

“Are you fucking with me? He’s obviously just a nutjob!”

“A world of super-people inspires all kinds of response, Damian. People want to be part of it and their innermost traumas and insanities come to life. He’s clearly mentally unbalanced, yes. So you need to protect him from himself and protect people around him as well.”

Damian scoffed.

“He can’t hurt anyone, he’s throwing ketchup at people! Police can deal with it!”

“Crazy people are always dangerous. You don’t know what he actually wants or has, you’re pre-judging. He might even be a diversion from something else. It’s probably going to be frustrating and disappointing, but in our line of work we can’t take risks.”

Tim and Dick had been snickering behind them.

“And if there’s someone allergic there it might be a threat! Or if it goes in someone’s eyes!” Tim said, shrugging, and Dick bursted out laughing, but both stopped when Bruce glared at them.

“Screw this, I’m not going. You go if you think that’s important.” Damian gave his back.

“It’s not a request, Damian. I don’t have spare time to argue, we all have missions. I’ll call this insubordination and you won’t be designed prior cases until you change my mind.” Bruce gave his back.

“Dami, I had to deal with Kite Man on my turn.” Dick mentioned. “Your dignity will survive this, even if scarred.”

“Are we  _ competing _ ? Do you remember Polka-Dot Man?” Tim placed his hands on his waist.

“Don’t even  _ try _ , Tim.” Dick counted on his fingers. “Calendar Man. Zebra-Man, Penny Plunderer… do I need to go on?”

“Man, Gotham is  _ wild _ .” Tim whistled.

“Fuck you all.” Damian said before leaving, actually getting to fly over there to get this shit over with.

It was, however improbable, worse than he thought.

When he arrived, the man had locked himself in the the restaurant in the top of a building nearby with now ten people, all covered in mayo and mustard, crawling with their hands on their faces, some crying and saying he sprayed pepper on their eyes. Damian cringed, so goddamn angry - and because he was just a lick wrong in how inoffensive the man was, he was even angrier.

The figure who called himself a villain wore the most ridiculous greenish blue suit with what was probably a white underwear on the outside, green gadgetry and dark glasses. In his hands, a big contraption that probably was actually very well engineered to be able to work. 

“Look who arrived just in  _ thyme _ ! What’s the  _ dill _ ? The Dark Knight thinks he’s too good to  _ relish _ this fight and sent the sidekick? He  _ butter _ not underestimate me!”

Damian just dropped his shoulders.

“Today is the day I’ll murder again.”

The self-called Condiment King pointed his gun to a girl, who covered her eyes.

“I  _ encurryage _ you to leave this building and allow me to go away on my own.” He yelled at Damian as if he actually had the upper hand.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Sure as the sun rises in the  _ yeast _ .” 

Clenching his teeth and fists, Damian walked closer.

“Surrender peacefully and you might have a favorable trial, with the psychiatric help you need. Or I’ll shove your Tabasco up your ass. What’s your decision?”

The man’s response was to throw mayonnaise on Damian’s face and hair. Not having dodged completely from it when he was perfectly capable of doing so made him enraged already - feeling that disgusting thing on his hair was the final drop.

“ _ Mayo _ -u never say such things again! You don’t seem to know who you’re  _ a-dressing _ ! I’m the Condiment King, the one-“

Damian kicked the man away from the girl and protected her from the ketchup spray with his cape, and it had taken all his control not to use his actual strength and break his spine. The Condiment King crawled away, and Damian gave his back to kick open the door (shattering it in the process) so that the people could leave that place and both police and medical care could enter. 

The villain, on his turn, stumbled on a puddle of ketchup when trying to get up and run away, and all by himself fell through the window.

"Nut-thing can hurt me!" he laughed as he floated in the air back to the top of the building and a few people cheered, but pointing above him, where a Superboy was holding him, saving him from the fall.

"Yeah, congrats! What about keeping yourself unhurt and safe in jail?" Jon said with a cocky smile, releasing him gently on the floor and breaking his modified gun before he tries anything else.

The officers came and Jon kept holding him until he is handcuffed, then he waved at the people around who were still applauding him and walked to Damian.

"Rough night, Robin?" he giggled, raising his hand to wipe mustard off of Damian's shoulder.

“What do you think?” Damian hissed  aggressively while wiping the disgusting sauce off his hair, boiling inside. Jon’s saving angered him even a bit more when he was this close to snap. All because he had been reckless enough to allow the man to make that ridiculous fall to his death, and it needed Jon to help him not to fail miserably in such a pathetic task. 

“What are you even doing here?” He took off his cape. Look at this! A fucking trail of soy sauce all over it! That was when he saw a flash. 

Great. Great, someone took a picture and now this fiasco is online.

"I was patrolling!" Jon shrugged, glancing around a little bothered with the crowd paying attention on them, so he gave one step closer to Damian, talking a little lower to him. "Hey, listen. I need to talk with you. Are you free now?"

"No!" Damian roared in answer, giving his back to Jon.

"Hmm... Are you going somewhere?" he ran after Damian to reach him. He wouldn't let his opportunity escape so easily. Damian has been avoiding him for far too long and it’s been a week since he saw him.

"Can't you see me going?" Damian just wanted to go away from Jon sooner as possible, so he jumped over his bike and turned it on without saying more.

But Jon was decided and soon as Damian he was right after him.

"I'll follow you, then! It's very quick what I want to say!"

"Whatever, Superboy!" that's the worst, Jon's stubbornness! Damian was already pissed off and that failure of a villain was the last drop to him. "I can't believe this night! Everything went wrong!"

"Dami, listen. Maybe we can go out to lay off some steam, I-" Jon began, a little hesitant, but determined. The only thing is that from monosyllabic Damian suddenly decided to vent about everything.

"Seriously, how people like him are even considered villains? He was clearly just a stupid nutjob with plenty of time but 'no, Damian! He's dangerous and needs to be contained'. The fuck he needs is a mental hospital!"

"Yeah, sure! But listen-"

"And those stupid people right there, afraid of  _ food _ ! Why didn’t they just leave the fucking place? Oh, no! Someone will come to rescue us, so let's not move our ugly, fat asses! I swear one day they will be calling us to fight a cockroach! I'm not even kidding, those lazy stupid people!"

"It’s tough, yeah! But, hey, I really need to say somethi-"

"And there's sauce even in my ear! I shouldn't have gotten up from bed today!"

"Damian, listen to me! You've been avoiding me forever now, you won't run away! Listen!" Jon raised the tone of his voice, but Damian seemed determined to keeping on with the complaining and Jon ran out of patience. "I like you!"

"...that stupid, pathetic clown, laughing at me!"

"Jesus Christ, Damian!" Jon rolled his eyes and flew a little faster, crossing Damian's way so he could look at his eyes while, this time, he practically yelled at his face. "I. Like. You!"

Damian stared at Jon in sheer disbelief.  

Was this so fucking pointless to him he thought it was just something he would throw in his face literally any time, even that being the worst time possible? Jon couldn’t possibly be taking this for real. 

“ _ Seriously _ ? Now? You’re doing this  _ now _ ? When I’m with mayonnaise in my fucking hair and I’ve come to the lowest point possible, in the middle of a random stupid night in Gotham,  _ that’s _ when you think it’s a good idea to tell me? What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m gonna pretend I didn’t even hear you! Get over yourself, Jonathan, this is fucking ridiculous!”

Until a certain point Jon was kind of smiling, too used with Damian’s anger. But then it didn't sound like anger, didn't sound like Damian. Not  _ his _ Damian.

Robin was too blind with rage to notice what he’s done - that none of his musings on the legitimacy of Jon’s feelings were shared properly, that he couldn’t possibly know that Damian suspected of his feelings already, but just didn’t believe in their truthfulness.

He was too blinded to notice that hearing that would just break Jon’s heart. 

Jon even opened his mouth to ask when it would be a better time to Damian, but his eyes burned and he knew that he was about to cry, so he closed his lips, inhaled slowly by the nose and looked at everywhere except at Damian.

"I'm so- I'm sorry..." that's it. He was sorry for thinking that he was the one who should have an open heart if things went wrong. He was sorry for not thinking that Damian could feel bad and take it like an offense. He was sorry for giving his back to Damian and flying away as fast as he could, since he wasn't strong enough to face him.

What did he do  _ so _ wrong? The question hammered in Jon's head while he wiped the tears off his face - it was all because of the speed that he was using, he wouldn't cry because Damian didn't correspond to his feelings, he couldn't be this weak!

For the first minutes Jon just flew without direction, feeling lost, but his heart decided the way for him and when he looked better he recognized Canada, and he knew who was there doing a job. In less than one minute Jon was knocking at the door, with a broken heart and feeling stupid for having so many hopes.

"Jonathan?" Lois answered the door, immediately worried when she looked at her son's face.

"Mom... Can I stay here for a while?"

***

Damian rode home with a lump in his throat and his teeth so clenched it hurt his jaw. 

And he thought that a clown throwing ketchup at people was the lowest his day could get.

Talk about a disastrous night. 

Damian was under the shower absolutely defeated.

He’s done everything,  _ everything _ not to come to this point, and Jon had to ruin everything like he couldn’t care less. Jon had no idea how much time he spent thinking of what to tell him, how to tell him, when to tell him. He had spent more than a year thinking about this, and Jon could barely wait three weeks after his crush before just spitting it out on him without caring about nothing of what they both felt. He, Damian, could wait the rest of his life, and Jon couldn’t wait until he’s taken a fucking shower. How could he just treat this so recklessly, like it’s nothing at all? 

Damian was getting dressed, feeding frustration and anger altogether, when someone knocked on his door.

“Damian. May I get in?” 

It was his father’s voice.

“Go fucking away! Your clown is restrained, I’ve played your humiliating puppetry, can you leave me alone?”

That was when he noticed how odd it was that Bruce was in his  _ bedroom _ . He never goes there. He entered, even with what his son said. 

“What?” Damian asked the moment Bruce was standing in front of him.

“It’s not about the Condiment King. It’s about Jon and what you’ve been doing.”

“Timothy and Richard spilled the beans, it seems. I can’t trust  _ anyone _ at all in this shit.”

“They didn’t have to. This came from other sources. And I mostly... observe.”

“You  _ lurk _ .”

“Whose fault is it that you can’t notice? Level up your detective game, my son.” Bruce tucked his hands inside the pockets of his suit.

“What do you want, creepy stalker?” Damian crossed his arms. “I don’t need relationship advices, father.”

“I’ve come to believe everyone does once in a while. And I’m not here to tell you what to do, but to clarify certain aspects, since you might be too close to see the whole picture.”

Damian sighed, throwing his body on the couch. It was pointless. 

As absurd as it may be, even he, Damian, was tired of feeding rage. He was just exhausted, and the sadness that had been hiding underneath started staining his mood. Bruce went on. 

“That being said, remember you had never pushed Jon away, not even when you really wanted to. I think that’s because you had never indeed wanted it. It feels like now you are trying to test him to see for how long he will still stick around through your worst; but he’s done that already, Damian. He’s been your friend through and through.”

“Father, that’s exactly the point. Jon doesn’t think things through. If we give it a shot and he’s wrong, and he doesn’t really like me back that way he thinks he does, we’ll ruin it all for the sake of a kiss or a fantasy itself. If Jon can’t see this, I have to. He’s the teen, he’s got the right to be reckless. I don’t.” 

“You shouldn’t underestimate Jon’s discretion. He may seem naive and it may look like he isn’t thinking things through, the Kents happen to have this. Their hearts speak so loud they can’t reason well sometimes. But for luck or survival, their good instincts make their guts a truly remarkable guide. They don’t just back down. And Jon’s got Lois’ wit in many things, and that woman can see things farther than Clark or Jon themselves. While he is indeed innocent about what he’s seeing, he had already noticed it. And no one knows you more than Jon in this world. You may think not, but he does. And this comes to the main point. He’s not delusional or picturing in you something you’re not: he sees you better than anyone else does. And what you are is better than the harsh facade you put on.”

Damian rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and legs, looking away.

“Don’t start with this, Bruce, I am-“

“Your truest when you’re with Jon. Everything you do to please him, to make him think you’re the best person possible, that’s you, too. Do you remember our first Christmas with the Kents, when you took that videogame Jon wanted so much off of Clark’s hands in the store when he was going to buy it, just so that you were the one giving it to Jon instead? It’s been you all along. Everything else he just brushes off. Sometimes he’s annoyed, angry or tired, but mostly he just doesn’t care. You should’ve paid attention this week. While you’ve angered every single Titan, Jon was just walking around asking everyone for relationship advices as if you hadn’t done anything at all.”

In silence, Damian swallowed hard. Now that the fire of his rage was soothing, the burns it left behind started aching. Once more, Bruce went on.

“I know it’s terrifying. You wish to protect yourself and mainly him from any mistake, you try to guide him to the right path. If you allow yourself, you’ll shield both of you from risk forever. The only two course actions to this are: you either bottle this up forever and it becomes a growing hole in your chest for good, or, more likely, it will burst some day in the worst of ways and then it will be a mistake. Tonight was a sample. Instead of trying to brake it, son, take the wheels and guide it. You love Jon, Jon loves you. You two are young, but that is true.”

“How can he know that?” Getting up, Damian tried to roar, but it was the cry of a wounded kitten underneath angry voice tone. “How can  _ you _ know? Everyone thinks they know everything so well about us, you’re all just standing on the outside pointing fingers. You just know what you think you see.”

“I know  _ you _ , son. If you finally convince yourself Jon actually loves you more than as a friend, you’ll find another excuse. And another, and another. You will outwit anything until you make sure you two are indeed better off as friends and that you’re supposed to protect him. You’ll reason it away and use an impeccable logic until no one will be able to argument you’re not right. So you’ll end up winning the argument, and the prize is the door closing for good on the two of you as a couple. Believe me, son. You’d rather be defeated.” Bruce’s words were hard, heavy and powerful in his tone and voice, and he leaned his hand on his son’s shoulder. “With Jon you made yourself a better man than this. You opened up, you dared to love and be loved, knowing it might hurt. You are brave enough to run to the front line with an unsheathed sword instead of crouching under the shield, cowering inside the fortress. Dare yourself to be happy. The winds are all in your favor. You just have to take the leap.”

To Damian’s complete shock, Bruce stepped forward and kissed his forehead. Then left.

The world crumbled down under Damian’s feet as every piece of rage finished dissipating like rain to fire smoke, and he stumbled to the side to sit on his bed.

No matter how bad the timing was, or if he thinks things should have been done in a better way - Jon had the guts to say what he never had, and he just spat on his face like that.

“ _ What have I done?” _

Breathing heavily, Damian bit his inner lip, touching their friendship necklace he had around his neck.

He held the pendant in his closed fist.

It wasn’t too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me I can't fix it if I'm ded


	17. Chapter 17

"Are you sure he said that?" Lois asked when Jon paused, and quickly added when he stared at her in disbelief. "I mean are you sure you understood what he meant? He could be meaning something different from what you got! It’s Damian!”

"Mom, you should have seen his face!" Jon said loud, rubbing his reddish face because of all the crying. "It wasn't like he just didn't like what I said! I know Damian! He was truly angry with me, disgusted! I opened my heart to him and he didn’t even think about how much it was for me! He just couldn't stand to hear it, mom! It was awful!”

"Ok, ok..." Lois said gently, tapping her son's back until he leaned closer to her, allowing her to hug him. She caressed the black hair and kissed his forehead, rocking gently her body like Jon still was a baby with cramps. "I know it's hard, Jon, but you're doing right. Vent out everything, you can even be angry with Damian if you want. Later your head will be lighter and we will be able to think clearly. You'll see!"

Jon sniffed and closed his eyes. He'd been telling everything to his mother, since after then been kidnapped - where he thought that he really began to see Damian differently - until that moment, and to be honest, right now he couldn't see a solution even if he could see things clearly. Damian was indeed so angry with him that Jon doubted that he would even want to keep on being his friend, and all because he couldn't keep his big mouth shut!

"I'm not angry with him..." Jon said low after thinking a while and he meant it.

"Really? Because I am!" Lois said and it was half as a joke and half true. She cupped Jon's face and caressed his cheeks with her thumbs. Jon was so pure that it scared her since he was a little kid. The world didn't deserve her precious boy. She smiled when Jon giggled and messed with his hair. "I'll tell your father you're with me, okay? Then hot cocoa and... Chaplin?"

How could Jon not smile? He nodded, hugged a cushion and sighed, trying so hard to not remember Damian's face when he confessed his feelings. No, he wasn't angry with Damian. He knew since the beginning that Damian didn't have any obligation to correspond his feelings, but it didn't mean that Jon wanted to see him so soon.

***

It was a bit late already in that same night when Damian pressed the doorbell on the Kent’s residence, but his father said Clark was awake - and he didn’t care or had the courage to ask _how_ he knew it. He just went.

“Good night, sir.” Damian nodded. “Excuse me for the time.”

“Hello, Damian. Jon isn’t home, I’m afraid. May I help you with anything?”

Clark wasn’t rude or anything, but it was clear by the cold politeness that he knew it all already.

“I see. By your tone I can conclude you’re aware of what happened.”

“I believe you have your reasons, but I very much disagree with your means. It’s not the first time you pull one like this, Damian, but this time you went too far. But since you are here, I suppose you want to talk about it. So it’s not my role to judge. I just hope you mean to fix what you’ve done.”

“Yes, but first... since I’m here, I should talk to you, sir.”

“Oh?” Clark crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

Damian breathes in deeply.

“I’ve been thinking forever of saying this properly to both you and Ms. Lane, but I guess I messed up everything. I would like to ask your son out on a date and I hope to have your blessing.”

It caught Superman off guard.

“...Date? As in...?”

“A date, as in hanging out with not friendly, but romantic purposes, yet not at all sexual ones.”

“Damian, wasn’t all of this because you _repelled_ him instead?” Clark stepped aside for Damian to enter the house, but didn’t take his eyes off of him. Oh, God, the Waynes. So complicated!

Damian entered the house and went on speaking as Clark closed the door.

“I did. Mr. Kent, it was a mistake I made. It scares me to death the possibility of losing my partner and my best friend for a romantic chance, and it turns out I might have made a mess instead. I planned it all so carefully and waited until there’s solid evidence that my feelings might be reciprocated, but when such evidence appeared I just couldn’t believe my feelings could actually be reciprocated. Point is, I just know it’s impossible to know Jon, to live with him, and to not to fall in love with him. As a scientist I’ve wished away I could break love to chemicals and act with my brain alone, but Jon himself taught me that using your heart isn’t to be laughed at. So I want to show him what I see as us being in a relationship.”

Non-stop, inspired and wholehearted, Damian went on.

“Be assured I won’t make any inappropriate move towards your son, Mr. Kent. As for me, we would wait for marriage, but I think such religious institutions don’t make do with reason, my beliefs and to the reality of our days. Yet marriage itself, dating and asking for the parents’ blessing are beautiful constructs, I believe. And it might sound too much, to be saying matters on marriage, but I wouldn’t gamble with the friendship I have with your son if I wasn’t intended on going all the way with it. I won’t present such questions to Jon, because he needs to take his time and we have to walk the steps of the way to see if his heart agrees with it already. So, when I say I want to ask him out on a date, I mean I will take him out for a dinner and a night out, something nice and beautiful. Then another, and another, if he feels like. If we kiss, if this works, right away I’d like to ask him to be my boyfriend. And just way longer down the way, probably after he goes to college, and I’ll ask you again, sir, I’ll ask him to be my husband. Probably somewhere between these two last we’ll sleep together, but I’d never even suggest anything Jon’s not ready to do, not even if _he_ thinks he’s ready. Plus, I don’t want you to think that it will happen soon just because I’d wish him to spend the night at my place sometimes. I found out I like sharing the bed with him without second intentions at all, only romantic ones. _Shit_ , I’m babbling. My bad. I admit, sir, I’m _so goddamn_ nervous. I do know I’m not an easy person, I’m actually a very difficult one, but Jon puts up with me and his heart of gold inspires me to be a better man every day. I might have put Jon in risk several times dragging him to missions, but I’d take the bullet before letting harm come his way. I believe we’re better together than we could ever be alone. And today I’ve hurt him deeply, so I want to make it up for this as soon as I can if he forgives me. I swear I just want to make him happy, sir.”

Probably Damian wasn't expecting that hug from Clark, so suddenly that he barely had finished talking. But Clark was a softie, and he found it all so sweet and beautiful, and it all clearly took Damian so much heart he couldn’t help himself.

"I have a confession to make, I’ve always seen you as my son-in-law!" Clark said breaking the hug but still keeping his hands on Damian's shoulders. "You should tell him this, Damian, but I'm glad you came to me! You have my blessing! If you do things right this time!”

Clark raised his hand as if to ruffle Damian's hair, but he refrained himself before doing that.

"And if you have any doubt about Jonathan's feelings I must tell you I had never seen him like this before. And we, Kents, we speak with our hearts, so you know that it isn't a thing he made up on his head! You should know him better, Damian! He's looking differently at you since we come back from the red sun planet. It took me a while to notice, but..." Clark shrugged and then widened his eyes, noticing that he was going on and on, touched by Damian's words. "Listen, you have my approval and my blessing and now you should go ask for Lois' blessing!" he winked and gave him a smile, giving the clue that Damian probably needed to find Jon.

Clark still said she was in Vancouver and gave the address, in case he hadn’t been clear. Damian pulled his sleeve to look at his watch on his wrist and sighed.

“I might make it in four if I leave now. I’ll have to get another coat at home, I guess. I might buy something on the way. Thank you a lot, sir. I’ll make things right!”

In a blink, Clark left and re-appeared with a coat from Jon’s wardrobe.

“As if I’ll allow my son to be in anguish for four hours. Nah nah, you’ll be hugging your father-in-law twice today, now for a ride to Canada.” He handed him the heavy, tacky blue coat of Jon’s to him, those with fluffy edges on the hood.

Damian gave a half-hearted sigh, chuckling, and held the piece of clothing, putting it on over his own fake leather jacket. It smelled very faintly like Jon, and it was as big on the arms, shoulders and length. He had to admit it was cozy.

“Wait a second, then.” He pulled the sleeves and tucked his hand inside his own jacket, underneath Jon’s, to grab his phone, texting Lois a small summary of what he told Clark, saying he’s sorry for doing this through texting, that if she’s against it she could call him now, and that they were on their way. Lois gave him chills, he had to admit it to himself. Then he walked back to his motorcycle and picked his guitar case. When he came back, Clark was grinning.

“Promise me you’ll at least pretend you’re not watching.” Damian asked.

“I totally won’t record it on camera!”

Damian sighed, defeated, and stepped closer to Clark. That was all a terribly awkward situation, but he had to deal with it and make do with what he had.

When they arrived in slightly snowy Vancouver and stopped in front of a hotel, Damian swallowed hard and checked his phone. Lois had answered “ _I’ll wait for you and won’t tell Jon, but don’t take long. I’m happy, but so mad at you! I’ll pinch your ear and twist it before giving you my blessing, you better make it up very, very well!!”_

Damian giggled nervously and put the phone back on his pocket. His boot stepped forward on white ground as Clark pointed which room it was, telling both Jon and Lois were sitting in front of the TV, snuggled on the couch. The hotel had just one floor above ground, and he stood almost under the balcony like the perfect serenading scene.

“Okay, now go away!” He turned and hissed to Clark, gesturing for him to leave, and Jon’s father just laughed before actually complying. _Damian, Damian._

“Holy shit, I’m ridiculous.” The young Wayne sighed to himself as he placed the guitar on his lap.  It was cold as fuck and almost one a.m. by then, but he decided he shouldn’t care. Fuck everyone else and everything else right now. He’s always thought he’d do romantic things to Jon because Jon was a romantic. A silly, reckless, messy, beautiful, wonderful romantic.

The first chords came out in the freezing air. He’s thought of using Yellow, from Coldplay, to remind their luau on the beach. But he chose another song. More fitful - too much even.

“ _Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry. You don't know how lovely you are._ ” Damian’s voice was loud and melodic as he sang the lyrics from The Scientist. _“I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart_.”

Jon took a couple of seconds to notice anything, but since Lois was waiting for it she was fast in turning down the volume of the TV as she frowned.

"What's this?" she said pretending to be clueless.

Jon frowned too and paid attention, then it was easy to recognize the melody. He didn't understand at first but soon as Lois turned off the tv and get up, Jon followed her lead halfway, ending alone on the window where the sound seemed louder.

"No way!" he whispered surprised even before opening the window, recognizing the voice. His heart jumped in his chest and he looked down at a Damian playing guitar to him under his window, in the middle of the soft snow, using his coat and looking stunning!

Jon forgot the world for a moment, understanding that Damian was making a serenade to him. He just didn't get it if it was his idea of an apology since they never had a fight like that, and if Damian was aware of how... _Romantic_ it was.

"You're crazy!" Jon yelled at him when he was in the middle of the song, laughing, and he wanted to jump out of that window to get to Damian, but as if she was reading his mind, Lois came from behind and hugged him faintly.

"Go there and bring him inside. I'll make another cup of cocoa!" she said gently and stepped back, going to do exactly what she said.

And Jon literally didn't waste one second thinking about it. In a blink he was leaving the hotel, running to Damian and never stopping smiling, but as soon as he got to him he stopped, opening and closing his hands without knowing what to do with them.

Closing his lips to not burst in laughs he glanced at the guitar, kind of gesturing for Damian that he was supposed to keep on playing and singing to him. A little revenge for being rude to him earlier, but not a very hard one, since Jon brought with him a hat that he was already putting on Damian's head to keep him warm.

With Jon putting the wool hat on him, Damian lost a little bit the track of the chords and lowered his eyes, clearing his throat and restarting the stanza.

That part was so particularly him in endless levels that it took him every bit of bravery to keep on looking at Jon.

“ _I was just guessing, at numbers and figures, pulling your puzzles apart. Questions of science, science and progress, do not speak as loud as my heart._ ”

Jon was smiling so brightly it was both easier to breathe and easy to make him forget his own name, let alone the lyrics. Yet his brows were in angle, he was blinking fast and his eyes showed he didn’t understand really what’s going on.

And whose fault is that, right? Damian took an even deeper breath. The first line trembled.

“ _Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me, oh, and I rush to the start. Running in circles, chasing our tails, coming back as we are.”_

That was when he heard someone inside the hotel telling them to hush and look at the time, and Damian stopped singing and roared back, looking at the window he knew it came from and pointing at it.

“Fuck you, you cold ass loser, what kind of lonely motherfucker can’t take one single song in a romantic apologizing serenade?” Then Damian dropped his head to his chest. “Shit, sorry. I’m nervous.” He didn’t restart the song or sang the one stanza that was left; looking down he pushed the guitar along his torso, so that it would hang upside down on his back, already filling every silence with words.

“You have the worst timing I could possibly imagine, Jonathan.” He chuckled, adjusting the band around his torso. “But you were braver than I, brave enough to speak your mind while I’ve been holding this back forever and would remain doing so for as long as I could. I couldn’t take this going wrong and I almost ruined everything in the process. Well.” He chuckled nervously, scratched his nape and stepped forward just a few inches. “I hope it’s an _almost_ there. Because I really want a chance to show you that I feel the same about you.”

With that, the icy fingers of Damian’s skimmed on the ever so warm, so soft skin of Jon’s wrist. During a moment which everything else faded, the fingertips caressed down to Jon’s knuckles and slid softly until that hand is wrapped by the cold, but gentle grip of Damian’s. And that icy touch seemed to freeze Jon's entire body, but the truth is that he has been just staring dumbfounded at Damian since he yelled about it being a romantic serenade indeed.

Slowly and feeling a little dumb Jon lowered his eyes to their hands together and it still took him a while to say something. Could it really be...?

"What?" he asked looking at Damian's face again. "You what? After everything you said, you just what?"

He wasn't angry neither accusing Damian, he was really confused and seriously relieved that it wasn't the end of their friendship. He caressed Damian's cold hand with his thumb and he understood, then he covered his mouth with the other hand, feeling so happy that he could yell if he hadn't done it. For exactly one second he thought of telling Damian he shouldn't have to do it just to make him feel better, but he looked at Damian's eyes and he knew that he meant it - besides, Damian wouldn't do something like that just because he said what he said. He definitely wouldn't pretend to feel something he didn't just to make someone feel better.

His eyes glimmered and he blinked several times, then he looked again at their hands and felt really stupid, standing there giggling without saying a word.

"You like me..." he said as a confirmation that didn't need to be uttered, then he moved a little closer and with his heart like drums inside his chest he cupped Damian's face, caressing his cheek. His huge smile only faded when he was too mesmerized by everything, especially when his thumb gently touched the corner of Damian's lips and Jon saw himself leaning towards him.

With another small step, Damian leaned forward as well. The moment they tilted their heads in a coordinated, slow, tender motion made Damian crack one laugh, and he right away reached out for Jon’s face not to let himself be misunderstood again. The other hand, on Jon’s, closed tighter the grip.

“God, you want this too. Who’d... damn.” Damian laughed a little more, sillily, eyes closed. “Who’d say.”

The fluffiest, fuzziest, warmest of feelings took him over and he had never experienced such thing. It was peace with a sweet desperation sparkling all over - he was overflowing everything he’s had to hold back for so long. That very moment, that very anxiety, anyone would say he should just get it over with, but what if he had loved it? What if that one moment leading up to their first kiss was all his aching heart needed right now?

The hand on Jon’s face spread fingers on that smooth skin, and his thumb skimmed on Jon’s parted mouth, featherly - but there it remained, in front of his lips, fingertip even touching lightly Jon’s nose.

He tiptoed and their foreheads were together; even their noses touched, but his thumb didn’t allow their lips to touch.

There was one purpose which guided him there, and he would accomplish it.

In his defense, also, he didn’t know if he could do anything with his lips now but smiling.

“Let me _earn_ this, Jon. Let me make things as right as you deserve. Also, I’m kind of old school, yes, but I’d like not to have both your parents watching our first kiss.“

With that, chuckling, he stepped back a little bit, and not the most beautiful of sunrises was like watching Jon giggling with his eyes shining. Green eyes searched for blue ones and he held the stare.

“I want to take you out first. In case I haven’t been clear, a date. I’m asking you out on a date, a romantic date. Is this where you want us to lead? Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Would Jon be ever able to answer quick instead of just smile for several seconds before? He didn't knew and right now he couldn't care less. He was too happy to not smile like that.

"You're so cute!" Jon said and bit the tip of his own tongue, noticing that he just hadn't thought it. Leaning closer again, but respecting Damian's will, Jon pressed a tender kiss on that soft skin of his cheek. "I want it! I really, really want it, Dami!"

Jon looked at Damian's eyes again and he thought it all very amazing, almost like a dream. He rubbed the tip of his nose on Damian's, giggling until he indeed began to laugh.

"Hey," he blinked, looking at the rosish cheeks of his... His Damian. "What do you mean with my _parents_? Only my mom is h- oh!" Jon tilted his head. "He brought you here!" giggling again Jon glanced at the window and saw two people looking at them. "C'mon! Let's go inside, you must be freezing!" Jon raised their hands and kissed Damians fingers, looking at his eyes.

Actually, Damian was blushing, and it was hot inside that heavy coat. He was thankful for the cold to be an excuse for his reddish cheeks.

“I’m already leaving, it’s late for you guys. But I do have to face your parents, I guess. I depend on them for my ride home.” He sighed, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “Let’s go.”

Not letting go of Jon’s hand, he walked in with him, and damn he knew he was cheesy but he was caressing his hand with his thumb. He said random things on the snow and how it was bizarre to come flying with Clark to there; just enough not to leave them alone in silence.

He released Jon’s hand just when he entered the apartment, with his head low, looking at Lois with an expression that could be of a guilty dog.

“First this.” Approaching and reaching out, Lois did pull his ear, as promised, but symbolically, since it wasn’t supposed to (and didn’t) hurt at all. “Then this.” She handed him the mug with cocoa.

“Thanks, Ms. Lane. I had this one coming.” Damian rubbed his ear, smirking, and drank from his mug. Even though they had a quick light conversation, things were really a bit awkward, but it was probably normal. Damian was freaking out and at the same time not able to be anything more than happy. He and Jon exchanged glances and gazes like they’re flirting through a crowded room and Lois and Clark elbowed each other and laughed weakly at how they were barely paying attention at anything else.

A few minutes later, Damian left the mug aside. “I’m not going to be a nuisance any longer, I’m sure you have a busy day of work tomorrow. I’ll have to resource to Mr. Kent take me home. He kissed Lois goodbye and allowed the hug, and they walked to outside the bedroom to give them more privacy, even though the door remained open. Damian walked towards Jon and again reached out for his hand. First a big, wide, bright smile.

“Good night, Jon.” He tilted forward and kissed Jon’s cheek, near the corner of his mouth, for a couple of seconds, as he exhaled slowly with his lips on tender skin. He stepped back and looked into his eyes again, never really believing they were both doing so, or that those sapphire eyes were just glowing and excited and not confused or hesitating. “Tomorrow at seven is good? I’ll pick you up, ok?”

Jon blushed until the tip of his nose and feel like he was melting. How could Damian be this freaking adorable?

"Ye-yes! Seven is great!" at six was great! Five was great! Starting right now was great, but Jon knew they shouldn't hurry anything. They didn't have to!

"You'll stay, son?" Clark asked at the door and Jon blinked at him, nodding. "Ok. Just don't miss school tomorrow!"

"She won't let me!" "I won't let him!" was the perfect synchronised answer of Jon and Lois and they all giggled.

Jon mouthed a "bye" to Damian, smiling as wide as he could smile. Lois hugged his arm and with his son she watched Clark and Damian leave.

"So it ended up being a misunderstanding?"

Jon blinked, tilting his head to her but without taking his eyes of Damian.

"It's more like a Damian being Damian!"

"Alright! If you can say it smiling like that to that boy you can handle a serious relationship with him!" Lois smirked, raising her brows, and let go of his arm.

"Mom!" Jon said, suddenly very worried. "You have to help me! What should I wear tomorrow? He didn't say anything about where are we going. Should I give flowers to him or chocolate? Some gift? What do I do if he thinks I'm boring?" he gasped, eyes wide opened. "Should I talk to _Batman_ ? To the _whole Bat-family_?"

Lois blinked before chuckling and held Jon's hand, guiding him to the couch.

"Ok, let's go back to the first question. Your clothes..."  


***

In the middle of that night, Bruce received a call. He was just wandering around the house while Damian didn't arrive, still in daily clothes. Picking the phone on his pocket, he looked at the name and hoped the news were good.

“Hey, Clark." His voice was calm and low as usual. "Did everything go right?"

"Good night, Bruce. Yes, everything went alright. It was awfully cute, Damian even sang him a song, I have it recorded. I know Damian might make me eat krpyonite for this, but I'll send you anyway."

"He indeed might. But I do want it.”

Clark then wondered about the pictures of their families and them that Bruce might keep. Could he?

"I know. Well. They've got a date."

"I like to hear that. Thank you for your help, Clark. It will be beautiful. Damian is young and harsh, but he’s got a good heart and so much love to give.”

"He's a lot like you."

"He's grown better. Much wiser and braver than I was when I was his age or even older."   _A Kent does that to a Wayne, apparently._ Even though he knew it was Damian's merit alone, having influence and incentive from Jon certainly eased his edges and smoothed the roughness of his heart.

A moment of silence, then both said at the same time.

"Clark, um..." "Listen, Bruce..."

"Yes." Bruce said right away, to let him start.

"The, tomorrow thing we had said..."

"Yeah, it's up yet." The Wayne confirmed. "If you want to."

"I do. I'll, I'll be there."

"Hm. Good. See you there, I guess. We should probably have a conversation on our sons' situation, right?"

"Yes, yes. We should definitely talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAAAY LOVE WINS


	18. Chapter 18

Damian couldn’t sleep that night, but for the first time in ages it was for a good feeling that he was tossing and turning on the sheets.

He got up and got dressed, humming Coldplay songs in the shower. He kept Robin clothes underneath regular clothing. He left for the kitchen, and found Dick, Alfred and Bruce.

Sometimes he wondered whether Dick lived there or in his actual apartment, because how early can someone get up so that they have breakfast before duty with Batman?

He didn’t care about such things now. Anything hardly bothered him at all.

“Good morning, Dick! Father! Alfred! How are you today?”

Dick was so shocked he almost spat his coffee. With a smug smile, Bruce answered back the ‘Good morning’, and, after lifting his brows, so did Alfred. Dick was still coughing and watching his brother’s glowing self in spite of his eye rings and asked himself what’s going on, low. Damian just picked an apple and left, waving at them.

“Going for patrol. See ya!”

It wasn’t a lie. He could go for patrol and also get everything planned as well. After all, he indeed had it all planned for a while ago.

As he was leaving for the garage, he stopped suddenly. He was almost forgetting something!

Cellphone now in hands, he typed “ _Good morning, sunshine. Have a nice day at school_.“, and sent Jon. It still gives him chills, as if he wasn’t supposed to and everything that happened in the last night was a big hallucination of sorts.

Yeah, maybe he couldn’t sleep because he was afraid of when he wakes up again it’s all just a fluffy, fuzzy dream of his.

Jon was already awake when he received that message and he wouldn't even try to stop himself from rubbing his phone on his face. It wasn't a dream! He typed back:

Jon _: good morning, beautiful._

Jon _: stay safe today_

_Jon: stay safe for me <3 _

Before he wondered if he should or not he had already sent it to him, blushing hard.

So this is happening indeed! He and Damian, they really liked each other! He stopped by his house, picked his books, petted DJ's head and left to school, giggling to himself all the time. Before getting in class he texted again Damian, not only because he couldn't resist, but also because he need to confirm that it really wasn't a dream.

Jon: _at seven, then?_

It took the time for Damian to cross to the city in his motorcycle - riding, not flying - to answer, but as Damian found himself parked he smiled at his phone for long seconds before sending him two texts.

Damian: _At seven. You’ll be at your dad’s, right?_

Damian _: Don’t worry about anything, like bringing something or which clothes to wear. We’ll not go anywhere fancy at all. But it’s a surprise._

He walked towards the parlor where he would buy certain things, putting his phone on his pocket. But smirking he pulled it back.

Damian: _You look handsome in anything you wear._

He texted and sent, deciding for no suggestive emojis or anything that could imply a second meaning. He just really meant that Jon looks handsome in anything he wears; simple as that.

"He'll kill me!" Jon said loud when he read the message in his break time.

"Who?" one of his friends asked, trying to peek over his shoulder.

"No one!" he giggled and hid the screen, and to escape from his girlfriends’ curiosity he ended up running to the gymnasium where he could seat down and answer Damian quietly.

Jon: _Yeah, I'm in dad's._

Jon:  _And D, we both know I'll dress to impress you hahaha!_

Jon: _Then if it works I'll show you how much you’ve 'earned it_ '" the last part was a shot that he knew Damian would understand.

Everyone knew - his parents, he meant - that he and Damian just didn't have their first kiss because Damian thought he should earn it. And actually that's ok, Jon thought it extremely adorable of him. Then he looked down at his phone and giggled, feeling butterflies in his stomach! He just implied to Damian that they would kiss! God! They _will_ kiss!

“Oh, boy.” Damian sighed at seeing the text, and half-smiling was part of the package.

Damian: _The whole point of earning is making the effort. As for you, you won’t need much to impress me._

Damian _: And that’s a great compliment! My standards are real high!_

Damian _: I mean, look at me, for starters._

Damian was obviously joking, but he meant every word. Yes, he himself was amazing enough to demand no less than amazing; but it turns out Jon overflowed in everything. For him, amazing was too little a word to describe.

They spent pretty much the whole day texting, letting things implied and at the same time as clear as possible.

When Jon arrived home his father was leaving with an excuse to give them the space that they deserved for a first date, and honestly Jon appreciated it. It was near five o'clock when he began to choose his clothes, already feeling the butterflies and giggling at how silly he was, ignoring everyone's advice. He didn't want to look his regular self and neither unlike himself at all and it was hard to find the middle ground for it.

Jon decided to already take a shower to wash his hair because he didn't want it moist when they leave. He tried to think in every detail, like the friendship necklace under the T-shirt and spray cologne just enough to leave a light scent - that he really hoped to lure Damian to smell it closer to his neck.

Past six he looked at himself in the mirror and he enjoyed very much the result: black T-shirt under an unbuttoned flannel shirt and a fake leather jacket, that happened to be Damian's. A dark blue ragged jeans and black boots, a little loose on the lace. Yeah, it was himself but a little improved, so he really liked it.

With still half an hour to spend, Jon sat in the kitchen (the couch could have DJ's fur, so he wouldn't risk it) and waited, for the first time in his life feeling his hands sweating a little.

***

"You can do this, you can do this." Damian mouthed only, not to risk Jon could listen, while still holding the steering wheel with both hands, parked in front of the Kent's.  

Even though it was tempting to ride his bike with Jon hugging him from behind, he wanted something comfy, pleasant and that wouldn't mess their hair - if they want it in some point, they can open the convertible roof. Besides, the discreet, elegant lines of the black Porsche were much classier.

Damian thought he didn't have much to do about his own appearance to look stunning - that's the thing with using smart casual all the time, and it bothered him. So, he ditched the shirt and the all-black, going for a white T-shirt covered by a navy blue blazer, black chinos and black fake leather boots (the best to be found between formal shoes and military boots). The result only partially pleased him, but it was casual and alike him enough to do a good work.

And he thought that he'd know what to wear.

Damian took a deep breath, picked the bouquet by his side on the car and got out, walking to the front porch and running the plan in his mind a hundred times, as well as every alternative in case something goes wrong. He pressed the bell, even though he knew any Kent would have heard him already. Maybe it was just the whole ritual. It was exciting, actually, and exactly what he meant: to give every bit of the first date experience to him. Waiting if it would be Clark or Jon who'd open the door, he stood a long step away from the door, shoulders back and flowers closer to himself, against his lower chest.

It had taken Damian forever to settle for that bouquet; while he yearned to give Jon something he'd have to hug with both arms, he knew that better than just overwhelm end embarrass him with big, flashy and stagy stuff, he could show his care and affection with smaller, cute, well-thought things, made just for him. It was the whole point of that date. So that was why he had six roses in his hands, all together in a simple wrapping, no leaves, smaller flowers or other props around. Just two red, two yellow and two blue roses.

"Oh, my God!" Jon got up quickly after hear the doorbell.

Of course that he heard it when Damian was probably arriving in the city, but he tried his best to not listen anymore in the same way he decided to wait inside after a few seconds in the porch. Damian would like to take it all in his old-fashioned way and Jon was decided to allow him to think that he had to earn it all.

Jon walked almost bumping on the furniture on his way, then he looked at himself in the mirror near the door and fixing one small thing or another he stepped to be in front of the door. With a very long and deep breath he held the doorknob and calmly as he could pretend to be he opened the door.

His first impression what to see a yellow sun for the first time. He looked at Damian's eyes and he felt something warm and good and nothing else in the world was more important than this moment.

"Hi..." Jon said feeling a little silly and he gave a small bit on the tip of his tongue. It was really happening!

Damian let out a sigh at the sight of Jon, so cute and so handsome, and the jacket - a sigh he almost held back, but he didn’t have to. His smile was too awed to be wide, and he stepped forward.

“Hi, Jon.” He reached for his hand, kissing his knuckles - half because it was classic and romantic, and half because he was kind of afraid now that any time their faces are together they may kiss.

He offered to that hand he held the roses with the Superboy’s colors, then nodded. All he meant was that it was indeed very beautiful, but it was really hard to deal with overflowing emotions like that, even if good ones.

“Are we good to go?” He stepped back and allowed Jon to lock the door of the house and everything, looking away. His teeth clenched as he knew he did so because he couldn’t take very well if Jon got emotional or something about it so early. _Braver next time, Damian! You can do this!_ For having walked away a little he used the excuse of opening and holding the car door open for Jon, and then lifted his head to look into his eyes, defying himself.

Jon hid his face under the roses for a moment, both to smell it and to smile so wide his face could hurt. It was so adorable of Damian he barely could stand!

He followed Damian with the roses  still partially covering his face and giggled when he passed through Damian to get in the car.

"Thank you..." he said low, touching slightly his hand before sitting down and then lifting his eyes to Damian, holding the gaze.

It was indeed like a dream, Jon even felt his body kind of numb and his head floaty. And the best part is that it was really happening! They're going on a date! He screamed inside so happy he was and he probably never pretended so well to be calm - which was still a really bad performance. When Damian got in the car Jon turned his face to look at him and even his sigh trembled.

"You look amazing! Like, you look good!" he tried and giggled nervous, flushing. Neither  seemed correct to describe him even with both being true. Diverting his eyes to the roses he tried again. "You are gorgeous, Damian..."

Jesus Christ! His heart jumped and he closed his mouth in a line, still smiling nervous. What did he just say to Damian?

"Shou- should I go inside and, and put the flowers in the water?"

Damian giggled and scratched his jaw, looking at the flowers and hating it that he was probably blushing. Yet, at least he didn’t really have to hide it.

“If you want you can do it. Or you leave it on the car. Considering it’s you, it’ll all take the same amount of time anyway!” He chuckled low, and unlocked the door for Jon - he wouldn’t have the time to get out and hold it for him again, and Jon would be back, closing the door once more. It took the time of his sigh only, and he took advantage of the opportunity. “You barely messed a hair in your head. Pff. Like I said it.” He shrugged as if nonchalantly, as if just another of his I-told-you-so moments, while he turned the engines on. “You always look good. You managed to look amazing.”

Damian turned the radio on and allowed it to cover up for the silence he knew they could make, anxious and nervous  as they were heading to the place where he had it all prepared for their first date to be dream material. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to RainbowOtakutron for the proofreading ♥

Throughout the way, Jon and Damian made some awkward comments on the music or the weather. It all worked well in breaking the ice, even though they sounded like two strangers meeting in an elevator. Damian knew it was already expected nothing to make a fuss about.

The moment he saw the Ferris Wheel, he took a deep breath.

“Um. I don’t know if I have ever told you this story.” His tone was a bit serious and he kept on looking forward at the street, even when it was a red light. “You know that my start with the Teen Titans was... troublesome. They all couldn’t stand me, well, that didn’t change much” he chuckled once and went on, “but it was different. I couldn’t be nice to them even if I wanted to. I didn’t know how. I had never had nice.”

Jon’s attentive eyes on him felt heavy and he wondered whether he should have chosen better words.

“Then they took us all to an amusement park.” As he said this he turned left and it was clear where they were going to park. “It was just so silly for me, such childish, stupid stuff, yet so... well, nice. I entered in this competition with Garth on the dance mat, and legend said he was unbeatable. I had never even goddamn danced in my life, but it was just following leads. I could do it. I admit I almost lost to him, but in the end, I beat him. I think that’s why he hates me this much up to date.” There was more small laughter it was easy even when it was more emotional. “I had fun. It struck me. I like amusement parks  a lot ever since.” He opened the door to leave. “Wait.”

Jon was completely mesmerized, enchanted by Damian. He followed him with his eyes as he turned around the car. Damian opened the door for him offering his hand to hold faintly as he left the car.

"Wow... I never knew that!" Jon chuckled looking at Damian almost without blinking. "I would give anything to have seen you beat up Garth on that night!"

By saying it Jon realized he was a little jealous for not being there with Damian since the beginning. Of course, it was too much to ask for, they had completely different lives before they met. He just wished he had been in Damian's life since forever, to see him making friends, see him doing the amazing things he did - and still does. He sighed and there holding his hand in the parking lot under a starry night it seemed like a perfect moment to kiss him. He blinked and diverted his eyes looking at the lights before them. He was determined to give Damian everything he wanted, but he could take a very small advantage, couldn't he?

"D, do you-," Jon began as they turned to walk to the entrance. "I mean, can I... Can I keep holding your hand?" he asked and swallowed hard biting the corner of his lower lip slightly.

Endeared, Damian smiled at him.

“I wasn’t expecting any less.” His fingers interlaced with Jon’s and he held his hand firmly, lovingly, pulling him with all tenderness to make them walk side by side to their date.

As they approached the gate they heard the thick clanking of rides moving, the shuddering of rails and tracks, and the screams of their passengers as they are whipped around. Damian had their entrance tickets already so they directly took to the courtyard walking in the aisles of souvenir shops and concession stands.

Everything is a bright happy color, and the night shines in colorful lights from the light poles, to the benches, to the garbage cans, to the T-shirts of the employees. There was the smell of hotdogs and popcorn in the air.

In the middle of the way, he stopped turning on his heels and stared at Jon glowing more than every single light in there, making every color around him duller and blurry.

“Somewhere you wanna go first or I’ll drag you around? Wanna pretend you’re afraid in the ghost train and hold me?” Damian booped his nose. “We’ll get something better to eat later, but we can get some candy apple or cotton candy for the while!”

"Cotton candy sounds great for a start!" Jon played with his fingers. "And the ghost ride seems the best idea since I'm dying to hold you!"

Jon could have kept it to himself but didn't have to. He didn't have to pretend, and he wanted to make it clear to Damian that he didn't have to do so either. He didn't know how long Damian had been having feelings for him, but as far as he understood it had been for quite a while.

"Let's go!" he pulled Damian gently, smiling and blushing. He knew he would be like that for the whole night. "Let me ask you something, when you went to the flower shop did you say to the seller 'hey, help me, I have a date with Superboy'? Because the colours of the roses was such a cute thought!"

Damian chuckled walking towards the cotton candy venue really close to them, while he caressed Jon’s hand with his thumb.

“I’m so glad you liked it, Jon.” He said gently before turning to the attendant. “Hey, can you make it a ridiculously big one?” Damian gave the man a fifty dollar bill and before his awed eyes told him he could keep the change if he did a real good job. Then he turned to Jon again leaning on the venue. “I already knew where the blue roses were sold.” He wandered for a couple of minutes speaking on how to make colorful roses and which ones they had there, from green to black. “Then I just bought red and yellow ones where I could find them the most beautiful. I did the wrapping myself. I knew where to find the stuff I needed.”

When he turned again to the attendant, he had to laugh. The blue cotton candy was bigger than their heads and really well shaped into a ball. In that same good mood, laughing he said the man earned the change.

In that moment of Damian’s distraction, Jon leaned in pressing a kiss on his cheek tenderly. Then he picked the cotton candy away and thanked the attendant, giggling nervously as he looked at Damian again. He was amazing! He thought about everything while him, Jon, was worried about clothes! And still he looks great because, well, he's Damian! He does everything with perfection.

"Now I'm picturing you in the BatCave with gloves and a microscope almost surgically removing the thorns of the roses with a tweezer!" Jon smirked and let go of Damian's hand so he could eat the candy.

“Come on.” Damian snorted. “Magnifiers and a scalpel. Much more practical.” He corrected him, implying that he had indeed done such a thing. They walked to the Ghost Train taking an unnecessarily long way, so that they could eat their huge cotton candy speaking of trivialities. Everything about the earlier nerviousness was easing off until they were just pestering each other like always, but care and softness remained  adorning their words and gestures. Every time Jon laughed freely, like he does, it was like Damian was watching the colors of a supernova. He reached out for his hand again as if it could slip away if he didn’t hold it tight. Noticing that Jon was always corresponding and the only response from him that wasn’t joy was a cute embarrassment, Damian felt like his heart was too big for his own chest.

It was fun to see how much Jon could eat - being super and a teen - and Damian found it cute that there was cotton candy on the corner of his lip. Between just warning him or kissing that sweet spot to see how it tastes, he just reached out and took advantage of the lovely cliché to brush his thumb gently there wiping it away. They were in the small line to the Ghost Train (Damian would certainly have paid anyone off to cut any lines in there, but Jon wouldn’t like such thing), and right away it was their turn, so Damian turned to the line again and held Jon’s hand.

It could be a bad idea to be alone with him in the dark when their bodies and heads would be so close, but between everything romantic they had already gone through he could hardly see anything less able to set a passionate mood than badly recorded screaming, evil laughter, ridiculously ugly horror dolls with levers and the nauseatingly sweet smell of the fake smoke. It was ideal. When they sat on the small cart right away he threw his arm around Jon’s shoulders and started driveling about terror stuff - nothing actually creepy or gory, just funny things about special effects and remarks on curiosities about horror legends.

Jon was slightly turned to him listening to whatever Damian was saying and actually very interested in everything he said. That brain of his! How could someone be so smart and know so much about _everything_? The fascination for him was the only thing keeping Jon from leaning closer and hugging him tight; he had to watch him the best he could.

Too soon the ride ended. They giggled at how they had barely paid attention to the fake monsters. Getting out of the cart their hands met again naturally and Jon giggled when he noticed it. They kept in the mood of talking about scary things that aren't really scary and they made their way to the fun house near there.

"You know everything, don't you?" Jon asked kind of laughing when they were in the line to get in to the fun house. In a moment of distraction he didn't hold himself back and placed both hands on Damian's waist hugging him without strength.

Damian looked up to Jon’s face trying to identify the mockery, because people always say that as a criticism. Things like ‘you know everything, don’t you? Let’s hear it from Mr-Know-It-All!’. But no, there was tenderness in Jon’s tone and as well as in his face. Apparently, it had amused and enchanted him for real.

“I do know plenty of things, yes.” He said cockily allowing his hands to rest on Jon’s waist while he was inside his arms. The fact that Jon was bigger than him - taller and soon more broad-shouldered - had always been disconcerting, but right now the reason he lost his train of thought was another reason. It was like he could melt inside that embrace forever and he didn’t know why he’d hold back, but that thought made him feel helpless about how easily he could do it.

They were warm and cozy in a perfect hug, and within a sigh Damian pictured himself snuggling closer nuzzling under Jon’s jaw once playfully and resting his head on his shoulder.

Truth be told about how he supposedly knows everything: he wished he knew how to deal with people better. Not all people; most didn’t matter, but certain people, some specific people. Not only Jon, but certainly Jon above them all.

Instead he stepped back, holding Jon’s hand while walking as they could finally enter the fun house. It was just a soft switch between romantic and, well, fun when they got in there, as it was supposed to be. The tricky halls and obstacles made Damian pretend to be yawning as he walked on them with eyes closed just to be the show off he was. When they reached the twisted mirrors, he took his phone out to photograph themselves as he was taller than Jon in the reflection. The moment he walked to the side his reflection was even shorter and fat, which prompted him to start giving a lecture on the Physics of light rays and reflections that would lead Jon to cover his ears and sing something loud as if he couldn’t even hear him.

Soon. Damian was a fast learner, wasn’t he? So soon he would be better at this.

With Damian's camera they took a few more pictures, they hugged a little more, they laughed, and more than once their eyes got stuck in that sweet moment before a kiss that didn't happen. Damian tried to take a picture in a mirror and Jon gently blew towards that mirror making it change the position one inch, enough to make Damian come up with a gigantic ass in the picture. Jon laughed so hard when he saw it that they had to leave the fun house and he only was able to stop when Damian, a little pissed off, caught him unguarded and kissed his cheek making him blush hard.

For one second Jon pretended to be mad with him before he chuckled and held his hand kissing Damian’s forehead. Everything was so sweet and fun and, thank God, not even a little awkward. It all was happening how it was supposed to happen, that made their smiles and laughter constant!

While walking Jon found a photobooth and ran excitedly to it after seeing no one was there. He pulled Damian by his hand and entered as if many people were fighting for it. Actually he was just too excited to register every single moment of that happy night. Damian placed a twenty dollar bill in the booth to take a whole album for them. There were funny props like hats, big colorful glasses, and feathery scarves inside, which Jon tried putting on Damian who protested and dodged saying, ‘unknown people put that stuff on’ and ‘where else could those things have been.’

The results were funny pictures of them arguing. Damian with his usual frown pushing things away while Jon was laughing. On the outside, once done, Damian smiled at the results - it was so theirs. The last one was of Jon hugging Damian with a feathery scarf on his arms smiling openly at the camera making Damian himself smile like a fool looking at him on his side.

_Guess I’ve got a new screensaver._

They checked the pictures, walking arm in arm. Putting those away inside his jacket, Damian sighed, holding Jon’s hand.

“Hey, let’s play in one of those venues with the pressure gun to see if I can still hit it right even though they certainly tampered the aim?”

"Sure, pumpkin! Just try not to die of boredom on our first date, ok?" Jon laughed, pulling him closer to kiss his hair. "Should I blindfold you? Spin you a thousand times?"

Laughing they stopped in front of the shooting gallery and Jon handed him the air gun.

"Good luck!"

“Ok, let’s see.” Damian held it. “Left hand? Oh, damn, I’m ambidextrous. From under my arm? Eyes closed...” He was still looking at Jon as he was speaking. Mindlessly he was pointing the gun and in one point he just shot. As if surprised, he looked at the aim. “Oh, look at that! Apparently I’ve just hit the exact middle, who’d say!”

Damian paid the man an extra fifty dollars just for Jon not to say he was cheating. It was just a free giveaway of money indeed, but there was a point to it. Then he pointed at the big teddy bear holding a plush heart. The attendant handed it to him; he held it, thanked him and gave it to Jon.

“Here you are.” A big, goofy smile on his face.

"Dami!" Jon said almost exactly as he used to say 'awww'. He hugged the teddy bear like it was the most precious treasure in the universe. It was so cute! So cute! "I'm sorry but it seems that I have a new date tonight! I'll call him Dami-bear and sleep with him and never let him go!"

Even if saying that, Jon bent to kiss Damian's cheek.

“Dami-bear? I forbid you!” Damian had to complain just because, but he held the other free hand of Jon’s and they walked away from there.

They wandered together, chatting about anything, (Damian really took a selfie with the Superboy statue), they ate toffee apple and Damian intentionally guided their steps to the other side of the park where the sound of the waves crashing on the shore wasn’t deafened for the horns, music and laughter. They walked to the docks and the sea shone in silver. By then, away from the people, Damian knew his intentions were too clear and his mind started missing subjects to keep on chit-chatting about. Soon Jon mentioned he could eat something and with that his heart eased. It was fun to notice that it seemed like Jon was suspecting that this was it. That they would just grab a hotdog and call it a night. And he was happy enough because, well it was Jon. He was pure of heart and full of love, and the world, this ugly world is still beautiful in his eyes, and that was priceless.

Such a wonderful treasure to have around you.

They had a blast. Of course they did, it was them. They were wonderful, amazing, they were _super_. That whole night, he knew there was just one thing they had been holding back on, and now it was time.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> always thanking the sweet RainbowOtakutron ♥️
> 
> hope you like, darlings!

The pier was empty,  just  as Damian  had  planned and predicted. 

He made sure he would  never forget how Jon’s eyes shone like the noonsky in July even in the middle of the n ight. Stars were glittering above him and the colorful l ights from the carnival gleamed as if just for them. There the sounds of the amuse ment park were a lower unison in the distance, and the waves were clearer. 

“You know, Jon...” Damian stopped, after they had some moments of silence. “Amusement parks remind me of how beautiful it can be to do ordinary things, to play, to look at colors, feel the wind, to laugh. How life can be fun and easy. And no one reminds me of such things better than you.” They ma de the turn around some trees , and the sigh t of the amusement park was gone. “Com’ere.”

Tucking his hand in his pocket, he click ed on the device and everything  turned  on.

The small pier lit up, yet not enough to be blinding. His car was there - thanks, valet - and some soft ballad started playing. Here and there , there were dim lights, like round lamps the size of oranges, revealing a picnic on the grass before the sand and the wood of the pier. It  was all ahead of them about ten meters. It was all careful, but intimate, d etailed, but not fancy.

All for them, and they were a lone now. Just the waves to keep them company, while the moonlight shimmered on the s urface of the ocean and covered everything .

Damian released his breath he didn’t know  he was holding. 

“And you, um. You... you are like my amusement park, every day. Shit. It sounded way better in my head.” He laughed to himself - and he was doing so well up to then! Blushing slightly, he stopped walking and took a breath.

It was all going well. It was all going _fantastic_. He had nothing to be afraid of. It was all meant to be.

Knowing that didn’t  stop the bursting of his heart i n his chest when he turned to Jon so they were face to face.

“When I said I had to earn it.. . I meant I had to look at different eyes of yours, other than the reddish ones I was the reason for last night. My fear is... always had been... it might happen. I might hurt you. Sometimes it just isn’t easy... and I’m not easy. But it gets so much easier beside you. Everything does. Smiling feels so natural. So I... waited because I wanted to make sure your eyes are like this. Happy. I want you happy. And now...” His fingers reached out for Jon’s face and he swallowed hard. “Now, may I kiss you, Jon?”

Jon's smile trembled as he tried not to  laugh. He was so freaking happy  with e verything Damian said and did. Jon’s hand reached Damian's that was resting on his face and he brought it to his lips to kiss his palm. How could it be sweet like this? With an anxious giggle he moved a bit closer and lowered his arms to gently wrap Damian's waist in a hug.

"Yes, please!" he said low, then chuckled. He shouldn't have said 'please ', but he really wanted it. He wanted to say a lot of beautiful things to Damian, but that could wait, everything could wait! He sighed and bent closer, leaning his forehead on Damian's, blinking and smiling, nervous but so sure about it that  it  was ridiculous how natural it felt to him. Jon showed all his  cards, he had nothing to hide from Damian about his intentions with him. Now it was his call.

Exhaling low and thorough, Damian let his body fit against Jon’s like it’s meant to. His feet lifted his body as he tiptoed a little, and he thought his chest would burst as their mouths touched. He inhaled until his lu ngs were full and his chest pressed a gainst Jon’s, everything felt so right, so beautiful.  The c orner of his lips twisted up in a will to smile, and Damian almost allowed it when he relaxed inside Jon’s arms,  their mouths just skinmed together, noses brushing side by side, while his thumb stroked Jon ’ s pretty face. Very gently,  carefully, he moved forward one inch and caught Jon’s upper lip between his, while his hand traveled forth to hook on his nape. 

The sketch of a smile faded as if it had melted against Jon’s heat, and he surrendered to kissing hi m like his heart really wanted to .  He kissed him passionately, yet ever so gently, calmly, but wholeheartedly.

The amazing taste fr om Damian's lips for sure wasn ’ t just from the candies they've been eating and Jon knew it immediately that it was even sweeter than anything in the world. Jon’s hands skimmed up to Damian's back to hold him firmly inside the hug, like he could vanish any moment, and act ually Jon felt like even he could vanish, melt ing inside that kiss.

The teddy bear was forgo tten for a moment at their feet. T he night sky was clear and  full of stars above their heads. T heir hearts were light and full of happiness and everything was as perfect as it should be. Jon opened a little more  of  his mouth, and sighed enchanted, before deepening the kiss slowly . Suddenly he had the feeling he was stepping in to the clouds. _So_ _that's how love feels like,_ Jon thought, feeling everything around them spin slowly. His grip was so firm, but  Damian  could barely  notice, as he was  also  lost in the kiss and in the tingly, warm, wonderful feeling of kissing and  Jon kissing back - so easy, fluid, both finding their way and pace together like it's just natural. So the weightlessness was almost like being high on feelings and emotions. 

Not feeling the ground under his feet, however was beyond what metaphors could reach.

“Um.” Damian hummed, still against Jon's lips, opening his eyes. As their mouths were still together, he couldn't help but chuckling. He drew back gently, tip of their ngoses skimming. "Jon, darling." He hushed, arms wrapped around his shoulders and helpless low giggling. "Would you mind coming back to the ground?"

They were floating about five inches away from the ground and now Damian was really  thankful he waited until they were alone. He should always trust his own discretion and instincts, he thought, but he was just finding it funny, silly and ridiculously cute.

"Hmm?" Jon blinked, smiling in a helplessly silly way until he understood what was going on. He looked down and blushe d all the way to his ears, giggling embarrassed by  the way he let himself lose  track of... Everything. "Sorry!"

With a hug he hid his face on Damian's neck and slowly lowered their bodies back to the ground.

“Sorry!" he said again once their feet were on the ground. "I just, I don't know!" with a chuckle he looked for Damian's  eye s again, but he was really embarrassed. "This never happened before..."

Jon had a history with losing control  of his powers, but it had been managed with training. 

Let’s say, Damian was happy he hasn’t  been  trained  for  that .

“We’re alone, it’s okay. I found it the cutest thing ever.” Damian caressed Jon’s nape, then cupped his face, smiling cockily. “ So it never happened before, huh?  I knew I’d be the one to sweep you off your feet.”

In fact, Damian acted way more confident than he felt at the moment, and the confirmation that the kiss had been that good and even magical for Jon too warmed an d calmed his heart. Since, h e knew he mastered everything he wanted to, but... it was indee d his first kiss, after all.  He really wanted Jon to absolutely love it, because  he did. Damn, he loved it. The softness of those lips, the daring, yet endlessly sweet moves. The texture, the taste, the chills it brings along with the heat in his neck...

When Damian noticed, he had tilted his head once more, discreetly, smiling and lowering his gaze to those pretty, delicious lips. Like a magnet Jon met Damian halfway, but he was smiling  with eyes open, so it ended  up being just a quick kiss.

"Am I cute?" he giggled, feeling chills in his stomach from hearing it. Damian hadn ’ t this frankly referenced to him as 'cute'. Jon loved it so much that he couldn't even stop smiling to give him a decent kiss. "You're cute, Damian! I really think you are cute!"

Another and another press of lips, quick kisses and a few giggles . I n one moment Jon just leaned his forehead against Damian's, smiling like an idiot.

"And I really, really like you, Damian!"

“This is a lucid remark of yours after saying absurd words like I’m cute.” Damian stepped back, holding Jon’s hand, and lowered his body to pick the teddy bear and hand it to Jon. He shouldn’t  go  heavy on t he declarations that night, don ’ t want to overwhelm Jon. What was  said was enough and also... there was more planned to finish the date later. Right now they shoul d just enjoy themselves, keep the mood light and friendly. “Do you think I’d choose a _robin_ if it depended on me? I’d be an eagle, a crow, an owl at most.”

He pulled Jon to the picnic set, where they should sit down. It was mostly fruits and sweets, but the salty came in a fondue set with cheese  made on his own farm. He lit up the fondue set while telling  Jon  the ways in which he wasn’t cute,  even tho ugh he knew that to be saying this while making every effort to please him was probably very cute.

"I'll put your mask on this teddy bear and it will basically be you, Damian! You are soft on the inside!" Jon said in the middle of their argument, giggling and stopping only to bite a piece of bread.

The picnic wasn't  only romantic, it was them in every angle and it made Jon so happy that he couldn't put that feeling in to words! They were together , and  they weren't any different, but it was more. They argu ed about the silliest things while they held hands. They mocked eac h other and shared quick kisses. Damian rolled his eyes after something silly Jon had said and one second later they were trapped in a gaze that said so much about their feelings. They didn't change who they were, but they didn't have to pretend anymore.  S oon Jon crawled closer until he had one leg bent behind Damian, close to him without risking a suffocating intimacy , but close enough they were  barely touching. Except for one moment of weakness,  in which Jon couldn't resist  tilting his head and kissing Damian's neck. Oh, boy! That's way  better than any dream he had !

"I like your cologne..." Jon said dreamy, breathing closer to his ear.

After shivering, Damian rubbed his own arm to ease the goosebumps, shrinking his posture defensively. Needless to say no one has ever touched him like that, and that person being Jon, it made his skin crawl.  He didn’t know  how to deal with that  intamacy very well - an angry stray cat indeed, purring when petted but still hissing and ready to claw. 

Glancing aside, attentive blue eyes seemed to check if he’s done something wrong. So Damian sighed, allowing to relax the tense posture he adopted automatically, and he leaned into Jon’s embrace. It feels really, really good.

“You don’t smell bad yourself.” He murmured behind Jon’s ear, where he pressed a single gentle kiss and breathed in. No, Jon really didn’t; he smelled  amazing. The fact that he could do this  made Damian smile. His hand leaned on Jon’s leg, just because, as they searched for his hand instead. Everything was in the right place and he should cherish every bit of it. And to Jon, dear God, it was amazing! He closed his eyes and sighed delighted, even smiling faintly to nowhere. Their fingers interlaced and Jon brought Damian's hand  up  to kiss his knuckles, eyes attentively on his, then he coul dn't resist the proximity of Damian ’ s face and bent his head to kiss his lips again, gently and slowly, like everything in the world could wait.

Jon cupped Damian's face and caressed his cheek with his thumb before opening his eyes. He sighed and yelped low, laughing at himself afterwards.

"This feels amazing, right?" he pressed another kiss on his lips and laughed again, looking at his eyes. "I can't believe you like me back!"

Jon couldn't control himself he hugged Damian and kissed his face and hair all over , smiling and laughing like Damian was one of those puppies that you just can't deal w ith the cuteness overload. Opposite of Jon , Damian felt like  he was the  one with a puppy, those puppies that just can’t help but licking everywhere on your face once you lay on the floor or something. He laughed and shut his eyes.

“Hey, hey, Jesus!” Damian squirmed in Jon’s arms, like one does when tickled, and sighed as he looked back at his blue eyes. 

“I do, Jon. I really do. We... we are special. We don’t have to try and see if this works, we know it does. And I dare to say...” he crawled up, turning to be face to face with Jon, and inched closer, enough for their noses to rub together. “...we  do have chemistry, if that was in any doubt.”

Barely resisting, Damian leaned in and kissed those smiling lips of the other’s before drawing back again.

The calm sea, the sweet music, the slightest taste of the tangerine he’s eaten last, that night, that feeling;  him . The evilest of villains could now wake him up and tell him it was all an illusion and he would never really have this, and Damian would find himself, for the first time in his life, defeated before even fighting. 

“I want you to know I’m in this for real. You don’t have to be, we’re just beginning, but...” he lowered his eyes to Jon’s fingers, playing with them, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath to recover his courage and the right words. “I really want to be with you, okay?”

Damian inched closer and kissed Jon’s forehead - something to happen only now that they’re sitting, anyway. Once he was knelt, he sat on his heels and picked up the teddy bear - the teddy bear they got while in the venue, the one carrying a small plushy heart. 

“Would you open the little heart, then?” There was a zipper in that part of the teddy bear and he’d swear he didn’t mean the ‘open heart’ metaphor, but it was there and screw it. It was true, it was what he meant after all. Maybe a Freudian Slip or something. He didn’t really care. His heart was bursting in his chest even though he already knew the answer, and holding his breath he waited.

Jon tilted his head, frowning but still smiling. He took the teddy bear  out  of Damian's hands and looked at the small zipper in the plush heart before opening it. He put his fingers inside gently and found one single thing inside, small, very thin and a little hard, and he knew it was a card before taking it out. A credit card, really?

"Dami...?" Jon giggled confused ubut then he lowered his eyes to look at it. A golden card, ac tually, with a few words on it, a question. 

‘ _Will you be my boyfriend?'._

He looked at Damian's eyes again and he saw the anxiety silently screaming inside him. His heart jumped and for a moment he just couldn't believ e it, so cute and amazing . "For real?"

Jon giggled and then laughed and in the next second he was throwing his arms around Damian's shoulders, falling with him and kissing his face over and over again.

Taken over by an exhilariant satisfaction, Damian allowed himself to fall back, Jon laying on top of him as he was laughing of joy. He had his whole face kissed and it was so unbelievable that he wrapped his arms around his new boyfriend tight. His heart felt about to burst, yet how come it was such a pleasant, beautiful feeling? He just leaped, head first, closed eyes, and there was no obstacle for him to just dive. The time he allowed himself to open up entirely, nothing hurt but a lump in his throat  he couldn’t explain. It was  ov erflowing. Damian felt like he was made of a crazy, wonderful plethora of goodness, joy and love.

Breathing in  a  warm, soft scent, he buried his face in the curve of Jon’s neck and swang without even noticing, both o f them lying on their sides. Damian didn’t let go of him. Damn, his throat was tight, what was going on? 

It was like  he was  overflowing, and he felt so light they could be floating. But they weren’t now, and it was just one thing happening.

“I’m so happy, Jon.” It came as a hushed confession, like the last straw in someone who couldn’t con tain a single drop anymore. T he hug was still very tight,  he was still firmly clung to Jon , like everything could slip away if he let go just now.

"Me too!" Jon hushed back to h im, still giggling like a kid on Christmas morning. He looked at Damian's face and that smile was everything he wanted to see every day! It was so bright and full. He caressed his lips very gently with his thumb, enchanted. "I never saw you smiling like this... I like it!"

Jon pressed another kiss on his lips that didn't last very long with the giggles and smiles, and by him it was ok. It was amazing , actually! He had a million  things that he wanted to say to Damian, but most of it he decided to keep to himself for a while. There's no rush for anything anyway. They’re together now.


End file.
